


Differences

by deadblackhearts



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, BAMF Bilbo Baggins, Dwalin Has a Mohawk, Dwobbits, F/M, Feels, Female Bilbo, Female Nori (Tolkien), Female Ori, Kid Fic, Minor Character Death, Slow Romance, Tearjerker, Timeline What Timeline
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-27
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-05-16 15:56:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 38,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5831683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadblackhearts/pseuds/deadblackhearts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Billa Baggins has always been a different child and not quite what a hobbit lass should be. But if her mother had taught her anything, it was to lift her head up and be proud of who she was, the rest would sort itself out.</p><p>So when the unexpected happens and even her mother’s tales and her own adventures seem inadequate in comparison, Billa closes her mouth, straightens her spine and heads on to embrace the new additions to her quiet hobbit life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The characters and the LOTR/Hobbit world don't belong to me, I just had the fortune/misfortune, to get obsessive about the various other fan-fiction works and ended up writing something along the same lines. That said, this whole fandom is really outside my comfort zone, especially considering I've only read the Hobbit once and that was over a decade ago and I've only seen the movies once because who could handle that tragedy twice.
> 
> My knowledge of the whole world is more fiction than fact and this story will match it. I'll check on some things, do my best to get the names right and details like that, but you can forget about the timeline. I've tried working around it but I didn't like it, so be ready to read about extraordinary long travels, battles which took place at wrong times and other impossible plot devices. Look at it as if I'm only borrowing the general ideas about the characters and changing everything else.
> 
> The rating is only a precaution for now, but knowing me it's likely to fit eventually. I've also never written an m/f pairing so I'm not sure how much of the eventual sex will end up on the screen, still it would be a shame to skip all that dwarven muscle so we'll see.
> 
> The character death refers mostly to Belladonna and Bungo although some of the usual Dwarves will die as well, like Frerin and Thráin II. Most of those will be off screen. I don't plan on killing any of the major characters.
> 
> The last warning I have are the updates. This is obviously just the beginning and I have no idea if I'll ever finish it or how often I'll even write. It will be an inspiration thing and I can't always control that. Oh, I have no Beta, English is not my first language and all mistakes are mine (which I'm willing to change if they are not pointed out in an offensive way). Thanks

Belladonna Took was a name well known in the Shire. While Tooks were many, both adventurous and bold, Belladonna stood out long before she came of age. Lass of exceptional beauty, sharp tongue and unstoppable spirit. That was, at least, what the Tooks liked to say. But for the more respectable of hobbits, Belladonna was that cursed child with envy worthy looks, even they would admit, but the manners of Tall folk. She was wild and adventurous of all things. She ran when it was polite to walk, nodded when she was supposed to courtesy and never once held her tongue, no matter how much the situation required it.

Sometimes even the best of hobbits reprimanded the youth. On occasion those remarks could sting, but it was always polite to reply with a smile and apology, an intention to do better next time. At least among the respectable hobbits it was. But not for Bella. The Took lass spoke her mind caring little for where her words hit and she was rather skilled at shaping her sentences, giving them flourish and flowery taste to hide insults any of the Tooks would catch but none of the hobbits who despised her so.

But there was one respectable hobbit who looked upon it all with a smile. He didn’t care about the gossip where Bella was seen swimming in the Brandywine of all places and only in her unders. Instead, Bungo Baggins was impressed that she had learned to swim at all. But that were the Tooks for you. If it was dangerous and adventurous, they had to try it, at least before their coming of age. Some things were frowned upon in the latter years even by the Tooks.

Bungo knew he would marry the lass as soon as she was old enough to take him and he listened to little his family had to say to that. She was a beauty, wild and spirited and when she smiled his heart skipped and Bungo couldn’t help it but smile as well.

Some would say it was only to be expected when she dared to head all the way to Bree two years before her coming of age, others—mostly the Took side—considered it a rite of passage, one last adventure before all the courting gifts started to arrive. Nevertheless, Bella had packed with care, armed herself with a smile and marched down the East road saying only how she had a feeling old Gandalf might meet her there.

Now a good deal of the hobbits in Shire had a thing or two to say about the Grey wizard. Most of them weren’t all that nice, but the Tooks loved him for the most part and few of the children listened to their parents when they whispered words of caution. After all, no parent in the Shire could make the same fireworks and the shiny lights outmatched warnings every time.

Whether Bella met Gandalf in Bree in the end or not was never confirmed but she stayed long enough for the Tooks to worry and once she returned there was sorrow in her eyes which never quite faded and a lack of a skip in her step that had never been missing before.

A wedding was rushed which was quite the scandal for the Shire, something without precedent considering Bella was still more than a year away from her coming of age. Absolutely unheard of, the Bagginses could be heard whispering, disrespectful and shameful is what it is, Sackvilles would add. But Bella took little of note and was rarely seen while Bungo could hardly suppress his happiness and couldn’t wait to wed the lass.

He paid for the construction of Bag End, the best smial in Hobbiton, and took care to adjust it to the adventurous spirit of his future wife. He added many rooms including those for any elves, wizards or dwarves who might drop by. She already knew a wizard after all and while it was a little known fact, Bungo was aware that Bella spoke Sindarin of all things. The rooms would certainly not go to waste. There were two extra pantries, a large garden and even additional space in the back in case she ever wished for an animal or two to keep them company. Because you see, for Bungo all that mattered was Belladonna’s happiness and as long as she smiled he would wish for little else in his life.

So the wedding day came and Bella was certainly the star of the party. Not as joyful as the child the whole Shire had known, but few noticed and Bungo did his best to make up for any lack of enthusiasm on her part. He was a good husband and he didn’t allow anything to spoil their day or make Bella frown.

With the Bag End still only half-completed, the newlywed Mr. and Mrs. Baggins moved in with the Took family, just long enough to roughen up the respectable Baggins parts and put Bungo back into the world with a somewhat different polish. The fact that the new Mrs. Baggins healthily rounded up in that time and shone with a special light certainly didn’t hurt anyone. 

Now not everything was quite right with the new marriage and while Bungo was as happy as a husband could be, there were those like Proudfoots or Burrows who knew enough gossip to whisper curiously when Bella’s belly came in too soon, or when the usual eight months came and went with Bella still carrying and no babe in sight.

More than two families whispered when the wizard was seen and another couple of months passed before the whole Tookborough echoed with Bella’s screams. Now, not many knew about the long hours of delivery and the magic Gandalf had had to use to keep Bella alive. Even less realized exactly how big her daughter was and that she was heavy enough poor Bella didn’t even think about holding her on her own for days until she recovered her strength.

But Shire was a small place despite how big it was, and all of them knew how little Billardiera wasn’t quite a hobbit. Her feet were too small and her hair too straight and while she had pointy ears the soft fuzz on her rounded cheeks made even the most adventurous hobbits start. Still, it was saying something when not even the signs of the beard had as many tongues clucking as the gold of little Billa’s hair when held in between her dark haired parents.

Billa Baggins was already walking by the time the family moved into Bag End and Bella held her child’s hand as she climbed up the hill, her head held up high and her husband solidly by her side. Belladonna Baggins might not be the same lass who had left on an adventure to Bree, but she was as much a Took as she was a Baggins and while she realized there would always be enough gossip to go around, she made it clear really quickly that if any of it reached her child she would show them just how dangerous of a Took she was. And while a lot of hobbits were yet again surprised by her boldness, no one had expected Bungo to stand proudly by her side and give a decisive nod to confirm her words. A Sackville might have even fainted in the crowd but that wasn’t something respectable hobbits dared to mention.


	2. Chapter 2

Little Billa woke up with the sun shining in her eye, a bird chirping at her window and her tummy already rumbling. She jumped out of bed, opened the door to her room as quietly as she could then ran barefoot to the kitchen.

“Are you dressed, my little jewel?” Bella asked with her back to the table and the little girl’s guilty face.

“But mama, papa is away today, it’s a free day!” She said in surprise, sounding almost hurt.

“Now, now. Just because your father is away it doesn’t mean you can run around half dressed. Go put on your robe and come back out for breakfast. If your papa hears you he might get offended and where will we be then?” Bella said in her usual logical tone.

Billa hated that tone. It always seemed to make sense, it made her feel guilty and she always ended up doing something she really didn’t want to do. She really hated it. But Billa refrained from stomping her foot—because she remembered the last time she did that and the scolding was just not worth it—and went to wrap her robe around her.

When she got back there were eggs waiting for her, and fruit and scones and she knew she could ask for a cookie too. Her plate was not as big as her mum’s, but Billa never could eat as much as other hobbit children so it made her feel better to have a smaller plate which was still full and it made it seem as if she’d eaten more than she did.

Billa loved her mum’s cooking and hoped to be as good as she was one day, but with the whole free day on her mind, Billa hurried with her food and was soon leaning back in her chair and almost bouncing in place, waiting for her mother to finish.

As soon as Bella placed her fork next to her plate Billa pounced. “Tell me about adad mum,” she sat on her hands to try and fight off her impatience.

“Again? How you don’t tire of the same story I’ll never know.” Bella shook her head. “Very well.”

Bella stood and brought two cups of tea, offering one to Billa and preparing one for herself. She watched Billa as she worked, taking care to notice any mistakes so she could correct them in time, but Billa was already very good despite her young age and Bella ended up just observing with a pleased smile.

“Your adad was the first dwarf I’d ever seen. There I was, a hobbit lass not yet of age and stumbling through the murky Bree. I swear it rained in that town the whole time I was there and each time I’ve visited since.” Bella shook her head and took a sip, never once losing the smile on her face. “I tripped on my big and muddy feet and would have fallen head first into a puddle if strong arms hadn’t caught me and got me back up. ‘Careful there lass,’ he said, ‘these are not streets built for gentle hobbits.’ I was offended of course. I was a Took, not a Baggins,” Bella paused and looked around, blushing and Billa chuckled.

It didn’t matter how many times her mum told the story, she always seemed to go back to that time and she forgot the rest of the world existed. She was happy and smiled like she never seemed to smile for papa and the tales sounded so grand Billa gripped the edges of her chair wishing she could have been there.

“Don’t tell your papa that. There is nothing wrong with being a Baggins,” Bella hesitated then leaned forward and whispered, “But we all know Tooks are less stuffy and I was the best the Tooks had to offer.” Bella nodded decisively before continuing with her story, “So there I was, just about to tell him off when I looked into his eyes, well eye, he only had the one, “ Bella motioned to her right one, looking at Billa as if to make sure she understood, “and I forgot all about his cheek and gripped his armor with all I had. He was taller than me, but very short for a Man and I’d never seen such a beard on Tall folk before. It was long enough to braid if you can imagine. He was mostly grey and had drawings between his brows and the biggest nose I’d ever seen.” She then looked at Billa and said, “You’ve got the miniature version of that blower but the same lovely eyes.” Bella smiled so softly Billa blushed.

“Oh, don’t go on blushing now. You’re a gorgeous little dwobbit and let no one tell you otherwise. I only wish I knew where you got that golden hair of yours. I’ve not seen anything like it in the Shire or on my travel to Rivendell. Your adad was more grey than anything when I saw him, but both your brother and sister were as dark as night and if I had to name that color I would have called it midnight blue.” Bella patted Billa’s hand before gripping her cup again and taking a sip.

“Tell me more, mum. What was he like?” Billa asked still feeling shy but wanting to hear everything her mum knew.

“Oh he was quite handsome in this brutish dwarven way. He was all red armor and furry coat. He had the biggest pointy hammer I’d ever seen strapped to his back and more metal on him than could be found in the whole of Shire. But although I loved the sight of him even at that first glance, there was something else that kept me in place. I met his eye and I could see nor hear Bree anymore. There was no rain to interrupt us and the mud hardly registered, all that existed between us was the sound of two mismatched, slowing heartbeats which melted into one. Your adad forgot himself and his jaw dropped. I swear it was the funniest expression I’d seen since the Brandybuck duo slipped mud in the Old Took’s pie. I still don’t know how they did it, but it was the highlight of the party. So I had to giggle and the spell was broken. He smiled at me and led me to the inn where he was even kind enough to pay for my room. But I wasn’t that kind of a lass. I paid for myself, I did, and got cleaned up and when I was done he was still downstairs waiting for me and drinking ale. He was even more impressive in his armor among the Men who all seemed dull in comparison. But maybe that was my wild, adventurous heart talking. We’ll just never know.” Bella looked out the window, her cup now empty and Billa knew she would have to wait to ask for more if she didn’t want her mum sad again.

So Billa quietly left the table and got dressed. She took her brush and clasp with her and went back to the kitchen. She pulled a chair next to her mum, turning it the wrong way, and sat crossing her feet and her back turned toward her mum.

“Oh, darling. I’m sorry, my mind just wanders sometimes. Can you forgive me?” Bella asked as she hugged her daughter from behind, bringing their cheeks close together.

Billa turned her head slightly and asked, “Can I get a cookie?”

Bella heartily laughed but got up and brought a cookie back, before settling behind Billa and pulling her chair closer. “What will it be today, my little jewel?”

“Make me a real dwarf, mum. I want a braid and everything.” Billa nibbled on her cookie excitedly as her mum combed her hair.

“Oh, but darling you already are a dwarf, and if you never cut your hair the whole mountains will fight for the honor to court you.” Bella said as she divided her daughter’s hair, but already knowing the design would be hobbitish if anything. The dwarves were far too secretive and some days she would have given them Bag End just for them to tell her secrets only they knew about her own daughter.

“He has to be a warrior, mum, just like adad.” Billa admonished as if it was below her to even consider the rest of the mountain. It made Bella chuckle but she knew it was harmless and her daughter’s opinion would change with time. That is if Gandalf spread his visits further apart and stopped telling tales about dwarven wars. Bella shook her head.

Feeling mischievous, Bella asked, “What about a nice miner? He could bring you gems or a jewelsmith to craft you crowns and bracelets? If you marry a warrior he might go to war and you would wait for him like me.”

“No. I will only let a warrior to court me and when he goes to war I will go with him.” Billa said decisively then touched her hair to check if it was done before she jumped off and ran down the hallway yelling, “Du Bekâr!”  
Bella watched her go as she murmured, “Blasted wizard.”


	3. Chapter 3

Bella watched from the window as Bungo talked to Billa. He might as well have been the definition of a gentle hobbit, but a kinder heart couldn’t have been found in the whole of Middle earth. Bella knew he loved them both and could still remember when she came back from Bree, broken, yearning and clutching at her middle. The child she carried had been at least two months old by then and while she had no proof other than a missed monthly and a lack of appetite, something mostly unheard of in a hobbit, Bella knew there was a child within her and she was willing to face the whole of the Shire unmarried and soiled and if need be, die for her child. For even when everything in her screamed that she would never see her dwarf again and when her feet unconsciously carried her down the East road each day, toward her dwarf, she twisted and came back, because they’d said their goodbyes and he’d already given her everything he’d had to give.

But Bungo, with a smile reserved only for Bella, commissioned a smial instead of showing scorn, he hugged her when she cried and pressed his hand against her belly as Billa kicked. Helped her in every way a family could and didn’t seem to care when she told him there was another, a dwarf of all things, cared even less when she whispered she was with child. So Bella confessed and shared, hiding nothing from her husband to be and accepted a future for her child that was as best as could be under the circumstances, for there would never be a future for Billa with her adad.

Bungo was patient and seemingly made of the same stone as the dwarves. Because he stood by her, hushed her fears and gave her strength when eight months turned to ten and ten to fourteen. He yelled at her when she could push no more and scolded her too many hours later when she was too weak to hold her child, barely alive for Billa had also taken Bella’s womb and only Gandalf’s quick actions had saved her life. She had nothing else to give and no one else to live for, but Bungo cursed and yelled as only an enraged hobbit could do, until she snapped out of her misery and saw her dwarf in her beautiful Billa and sobbed her heart out in Bungo’s arms.

Bungo didn’t say a word when Billa was given a dwarven name next to her hobbit one or when Bella asked to tell the child about her adad and teach her things any dwarfling would learn at that age. He smiled and he encouraged, because he was there when Gandalf solemnly said she would outlive any hobbit and once they were both gone, Bungo wanted his daughter to carry on chasing adventures in a way her beautiful mother never could.

All Bungo ever seemed to want was for Bella, and later on Billa, to be happy and content. He didn’t need children of his own, the respect of all those Bagginses whispering behind his back or kind looks from those who turned their nose up at him. All he needed was his family and those two he would have for as long as he would have them.

So Bella smiled as she watched him and thanked Aulë for the good fortune of such a husband wanting her above all others. 

“Papa is leaving to check on the tenants, my darling.” Bungo patted Billa on her head and straightened up.

“Will you bring me a scone from Miss Proudfoot?” Billa asked up at him.

“I’m sure Miss Proudfoot had some made just for you as she does every weak.” Bungo smiled.

Billa, however, beamed and hugged her papa’s legs one last time before seeing him off at the fence.

As soon as he was gone from sight, her tiny feet hit the wooden floor of the smial and she was running for her mother.

“Mum, mum! It’s adad time!” She yelled, jumping up and throwing herself in her mum’s arms.

Bella had never seen a hobbit child soar that way through the air, but she had seen stranger things from Billa. Why, one time she’d been arguing with a large stone Bungo liked to sit on in the back garden. It was such a fierce argument Billa kept scowling in a way Bella was sure would have scared even a Man, but she had been a babe in hobbit years and only Aulë knows how old in dwarven ones. So Bella watched amused and even a little impatient for Bungo to come home so she could share the story, when Billa placed her little hands on the sides of the big rock and hit it with her forehead with no force spared.

Sick to her stomach and deathly afraid, Bella had ran and picked up Billa, checking if she was even alive after such a blow, but if anything Billa looked confused.

“Are you alright? Do you hurt?” Bella was barely able to force the words out her mouth she was panicking so badly, touching Billa’s forehead and looking for injury but not finding even a bump.

But Billa seemed annoyed and there wasn’t a tear in sight. “Mum, let me down. I’ve got a score to settle.”

Bella would have burst out laughing if she hadn’t been so scared, but she let go of her daughter, clenching her fists to stop them from shaking and looked incredulously as Billa got back to the stone and went on arguing with it. In the end she couldn’t do anything except forbid her from slamming her head into anything else or she just might accidentally kill a random hobbit with shock alone. And when Bungo came home she gave him a piece of mind about settling scores and talking about such things in front of a child.

She remembered the way Gandalf had almost fallen out of his chair as she told the story but then he had also explained how dwarves were sturdy and strong, and it wasn’t all that uncommon to see them bumping foreheads in greeting. There were all kinds in Middle earth after all, and she had apparently picked a headstrong one. Then again, Gandalf also murmured about stone sense and stubbornness of Durins but had never been willing to explain it as more than ramblings of an old man.

“What do you want to know today, little jewel?” Bella kissed her frowning child between her brows and carried her back out into the sun.

“Tell me why he left us? Why don’t I know my brothers and my sister?” Billa whispered as he laid her head on Bella’s chest where she rested on the grass.

It was heartbreaking to even speak of, but Bella wanted Billa to know as much as she could about her other family, the dwarves who would surely accept her as one of their own. So Bella collected as many stories as she could, books from different traders across Shire borders and she squeezed Gandalf like a sponge for every piece of information he was able to give.

Belladona Took had never been one to withhold information and a change of her family name wasn’t likely to change her.

So she petted her daughter’s hair, sliding her fingers through the soft strands of gold as she spoke, “Your adad was a very brave man, a warrior who led an army to avenge his father, your grandfather, and save the rest of us from orcs at Khazad-dûm. Do you remember what I told you about it?”

Billa nodded before she said, “It‘s a secret name only dwarves can speak and no one must ever know any words in Khuzdul if they are not a dwarf. But you don’t count mum, I’m a dwobbit and you’re my mum, so if I can know Khuzdul, so can you.”

“I’m sorry sweetheart, but it doesn’t quite work that way. I know some and Gandalf knows more, but in time you will learn that language well, and proudly say you’re a dwarrowdam. Now tell me what else you know about the battle.” Bella patted Billa’s shoulder.

“Everyone else calls them the mines of Moria and there are many orcs there. They killed my grandfather and all my family went there to fight. But I don’t understand why they would just leave. Didn’t they want me?” Billa lifted her head, tears in her eyes.

“Billa, my little jewel,” Bella sat and took hold of Billa’s hairy little cheeks, “Dwarves are a proud race, hard-working and made of warriors willing to die for their king and kin. The only thing more important to them than their mountains and treasures within, are their children and their dams. So never doubt the love your family would have for you, if only they knew you. But the war will end eventually, and when it does you will meet them for the first time and you will be able to ask all the questions I have never been able to answer you. But for now they fight. Not only for your grandfather and to defeat the orcs, they fight to have a home again, one without a dragon within but with treasures still left to find and many potential homes to build.”

Billa looked at her lap, tears sliding into her mother’s palms, “I don’t even know all their names.”

“I know, my baby, I know. I am so very sorry I never asked. Perhaps we can inquire with Gandalf the next time he comes. But for now you do know one important name. Will you tell me?” Bella pulled her close and tucked Billa’s head against her neck.

“I am Nis daughter of Thráin, son of Thrór, named for my big sister Dis.” Billa whispered before reciting the title in Khuzdul.

Bella smiled proudly before she gently tapped Billa on her shoulder and said, “Come on, up you go. Wash your face and find some trousers, we’re going to the Bounders to inquire about some swords.”

Billa leaned back, her eyes wide and her smile threatening to split her face, “Really?”

“Well, of course, what kind of a dwarrowdam would you be if you couldn’t hold your own in a fight? We’ll make a warrior of you yet.” Bella smiled and pushed her daughter to her feet. It was going to be a long day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I doubt I'll ever go into much concerning succession because I don't plan on making this a 'King under the Mountain' story. That said I was curious why Dis was lost in the whole aftermath and eventually read that even if Fili and Kili had survived, Dain would still be the rightful heir to the throne. Now I don't have anything against him when it comes to the fandom, but if matched, Fili and Kili would win without hesitation in my book. So to put Dain on the throne just don't work for me. 
> 
> All that said, in my story, in the event (which will ABSOLUTELY never happen) that Thorin, Fili and Kili die, the throne would go to Dis and no, she wouldn't have to have a man at her side to rule. I generally find it absurd considering that in most stories I've read Dwarrowdams do take on crafts and are usually just as tough warriors as men. It doesn't make sense to just skip them. But I will most likely write in the option that they can refuse to rule and pass on the right to their heirs. It fits my story and it's something I would do. Seriously, who wants to rule a mountain? It's just bloody politics anyway.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I only planned to write a bit about Billa as a child, but as I'm going forward it seems important to explain the way she grew up. Looks like there'll be a few more chapters about it.
> 
> I'll probably add random side characters here and there, but I doubt I'll develop any of them enough to matter. Let's save that for the company.

Billa was turning eighteen the next time Gandalf came. Still barely a lass but already taller than all other children her age. She was excited for the party, hardly able to stay in place for longer than a few moments and when her mother chased her out it got even worse.

Walking on the ground without shoes was something Billa was used to by now. She couldn’t handle the rough road closer to the borders, but at home, where the soft grass was everywhere, fine dust and almost polished pebbles, she loved to stretch her small, hairless feet and walk to her heart’s content.

But that night, with the party tree lighting up in the distance and the warmth of the night, there was just something about the pebbles that made her unable to stand still. She felt it like an echo from far away, tickling at her soles without actually saying anything. It was frustrating and threating to make her mad, and right before the party too. It wasn’t fair. Still, she knew something was coming and she couldn’t keep in place, not outside where the ground sang, and her mum was busy inside with so much more work left to do. It made Billa want to cry in helplessness or stomp her feet in annoyance. Not that she would ever stomp her feet. She was half hobbit and only a child would do such a thing.

“What is it, darling? Anything your papa can help with?” Bungo came from the back garden and hugged his daughter close.

“Mum is busy and I’m bothering her, and it’s too early for the party still, but the road is singing and I know something is going to happened but I can’t do anything about it, so I don’t want to stay outside and I’m still banished from the smial and… oh, papa, I just don’t know what to do.” Billa buried her head in his chest as she lifted one foot off the ground then the other, unable to bare the blasted song.

“Oh, dear child, I’m sure you’re just feeling all the guests coming for the party and if you just put on some shoes the tickling will stop. There are many solutions to our problems and most often than not, they aren’t just a choice among the most difficult ones.” Bungo slid his palm up and down her back in comfort.

Billa peeked from her hiding place, “Could you bring me my boots? I don’t want to make mum angry.”

“Why, sure I can my Billa. Just hop on to the grass and mock the stones until I get back.” Bungo said cheerfully but not without justification. It was a well-known fact in Hobbiton, Buckland and Tookborough that Billardiera Baggins had a special relationship with stones of all kinds and could often be seen having harsh arguments with the ground.

Forsy Sackville had tried to reprimand Bella once, calling her all manner of nasty names and saying how the way she’d raised Billa was disrespectful and would only serve to make the child as mad as she already seemed. Now Bella had picked up a thing or two from all the lessons Billa had gone through, but even when her whole body hummed with violence, Bella refrained and used her words, “My child is gifted with the sense of her race, something no other hobbit has and could only wish for. She is educated, or getting there, in most trades the Shire has to offer. Her skill with sword and bow has exceeded whatever knowledge the Bounders can pass on and still she is learning different weapons all the while asking for more teachers to improve herself. I won’t even mention the languages of Middle earth she struggled to learn while keeping up with all the customs and propriety of the Shire and she’s barely half-way to her majority. Now tell me, what have you and yours done that can even come close to the smart beauty that is my daughter?”

Forsy spluttered, so red it clashed terrible with her purple little vest.

“I thought not. Next time I hear you badmouthing my daughter I will slap you.” Bella nodded while Forsy gripped her dress, wrinkling it horribly and ran home.

Bella was rather satisfied as she told the story to Bungo. He didn’t quite approve of the manner, but when his cousin, a Baggins, came and said something similar, Bungo couldn’t say he reacted much differently. He was both ashamed, his shy inner hobbit unused to any type of conflict, and just as satisfied as Bella had been, because as a father, it was his sworn duty to protect his daughter, and that was exactly what he intended to do.

“Are you sorry, papa, that I’m not more like you?” Billa asked in a voice that clashed with her loud personality as they sat in front of Bag End.

“Why ever would you ask such a thing? If you were more like me then you wouldn’t be my Billa, but some other child and I don’t think I could live without my Billa by my side.” Bungo seriously answered.

Billa was quiet for a long time but there was an air around her that made Bungo uneasy. “They whisper things,” she said eventually, “some in a kind manner which still stings, but others don’t care to lower their voices or hide their scorn. I know that I’m different and I know that you are not my real father,” Bungo went to interrupt but Billa just kept going, her gaze focused on the twinkling stars, “I can see the differences and I know I have another father fighting for a home, but I still love you and I don’t want to be sent away where I would never get to see you again…” Billa trailed off then in the softest of whispers said, “just like I will never see my adad.”

Bungo was quite lost, as his fathering skills had never needed a lesson as much as they needed one in that moment. Billa had always been a strong child, seemingly as impenetrable as a rock. But somewhere along the way Bungo had forgotten that Billa’s very kin mined that same stone and it as easy to shatter as glass. He also wasn’t sure if he was more hurt by the lack of manners of his extended family and friends—after all, didn’t those same hobbits exchange hellos with him each morning and asked him for tea—or absolutely furious for the hurt they’d caused for his little Billa.

“Daughter of mine, for you will never be any less than my daughter, only death could keep me away from your side. I’m quite sure I sound just like your ada’ or whatever you’ve called him because comparing something to death has never been the way of a hobbit,” Bungo paused then shook his head, “but I do mean my words. I have never once regretted marrying your mother and I have regretted having you as a daughter even less. You are my family, the only one I have and I wouldn’t trade you for all the pies in Shire. Wait, that doesn’t sound quite as dramatic, I’ll try again. I wouldn’t trade you for all the gold in Middle earth. There, I think that’s about right.” Bungo was now looking at the stars as well and then he nodded to himself, yes, that did sound rather well in his opinion. “Not that I have an idea what one would do with all that gold, it’s not as if you can eat it.”

Then suddenly Billa was in hysterics, laughing so hard she slipped from the bench and clutched at her belly. The sight was so unexpected that for a moment Bungo feared she was hurt. So he found himself slightly offended that she was laughing at him.

“I’m sorry, papa. Really, I am.” But Billa was still laughing despite stringing new words together, “It’s just, that was such a hobbit thing to say. Dwarves mine for gold and only put their children before it, but all you wonder is why, because it’s not like you could ever eat it. Still, it’s not just that. I realize you’re not aware of it, but ada means father in elvish and you would probably have to insult a dwarf’s beard to offend him more than if you compared Khuzdul to Sindarin.”

Bungo could feel the tips of his ears heating up and he sat on his hands as leaned forward. “I was no aware of that. Best keep this between us, then.”

“I know, papa, and yes, it stays between us, but that’s why it’s even funnier. The elves and dwarves have a feud of some kind and I know they are as likely to come to blows as mum and the Sackvilles, but I don’t know why. I think I asked Gandalf once but all he said was ‘the stubbornness of dwarves will be the death of me’ all the while scowling and while funny that didn’t really answer anything.” Billa explained as she got back up on the bench next to her papa.

“Yes,” Bungo nodded in a rush, “the wizard is all mysterious like that. He drives your mother bonkers.”

“He seems to know I have more questions whenever he’s here but the answers I get are mostly vague and half-way through he always manages to distract me enough to run from the conversation. If not for his size a hobbit in the known might just mistake him for a Brandybuck.” Billa did her best not to moan about it, but even now she was frowning just thinking about the wizard.

Bungo just laughed and pulled his daughter into a hug. “Come, let us pick up some the food your mother has prepared and head down to the Party Tree.”

So together they did just that. Billa left her boots at the door, kissed her mother’s cheek and once they had as much as they could carry Billa and Bungo went to the party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone what to know what's happening at the Battle of Azanulbizar? Hm... That just might be a nice touch.


	5. Chapter 5

On their third trip to the party, as they neared the tree, a wagon came up the road and to Billa the pebble whispers cleared right up.

“Gandalf!” She yelled as she pushed her armful into the hands of the closest hobbit and ran toward the wagon.

“You came!” She shouted then grabbed the edge of his bench and flung herself right next to him.

“My dear dwobbit, you have grown.” Gandalf said with his mysterious smile, the one Billa’s mum liked to call the plotting smirk.

“I should think so. You have been gone for years and left me to my own devices. Don’t you know we dwobbits thrive in the worst ways when unattended?” Billa whispered as she leaned closer to the wizard.

“Don’t you get cheeky with me, young lady, a wizard is always on time.” Gandalf pulled himself up, seemingly offended before smirking, “You can just say you’ve missed me, my child.”

“Of course I missed you.” Billa frowned, “You are my uncle and I love you despite your meddling ways.”

Gandalf looked surprised and after almost dropping the pipe he’d planned on lighting, he put it away and said, “A hobbit, through and through. Your dwarven family would have sooner met the sharp end of a sword than said those words out loud.”

“Gandalf,” Billa laughed, pushing at the wizards shoulder, “Don’t kid about such things. But I’ve been meaning to ask you about my family.”

Suddenly the wagon sped up. “Oh yes, what did you want to know, my dear?” Gandalf glanced around, almost as if he was looking for someone, anyone, to get him out of the conversation.

“It’s just…” Billa hesitated, wringing her hands in her lap, “What are my brothers’ names?”

“Oh, child.” Gandalf paused before pulling Billa into a hug. “Your eldest brother is named Thorin, a serious young lad, while Frerin is probably the comedic relief in the whole bunch. Not a smile to be shared between the other three. But I have only seen them once and by then every last Durin was on the battlefield.”

“Durin?” Billa asked trying to stifle her sniffles.

“Never mind that. Now what has been happening in the Shire while I was gone?” Gandalf asked and finally lighted up his pipe.

“No one wants to teach me Black Speech.” Billa said sullenly because it was the truth and she’d been asking around.

Gandalf choked on his pipe and started coughing. Soon he was red enough in his face that Billa glanced around in worry, looking for someone who could help him.

“Black Speech?” Gandalf eventually managed, his color returning far quicker than Billa would have expected.

“Well, yes. I cannot learn anymore Khuzdul without a dwarf around and I doubt I’ll meet any ents, but there are plenty of goblins and orcs around.” Billa explained.

“Dear child,” Gandalf said with exaggerated patience, “do not tell me you plan on traipsing around the land looking for orcs to chat with?”

Billa scowled deeply, and if she’d ever met her brother or father she would have known just how unmistakable that scowl was. “Don’t be silly, I’m not foolish. But orcs speak when they fight, they taunt and they prod and if it were possible to understand their words perhaps we could know more of their plans, anticipate the attacks.”

Gandalf barely suppressed his smile at that expression, seeing many Durins in the hobbit’s slightly rounded face. “That is a very good point. I will teach you all I can while I am here, but for the more crude parts of the language, you will have to wait until you come of age.”

But that was enough for Billa. She was always happy when given the opportunity to learn something new, and even if those were only the basis of a language she was sure she would find a use for it eventually. “Now that is settled, we’ve gotten a new metalsmith down at the old forge. Half the Shire lined up on the first day with their tools, but I’ve asked mum if I could go visit and she said no.”

“Is the metalsmith a hobbit?” Gandal asked with some curiosity.

“No, he’s a Man.” Billa said.

“Ah, then it is best you do not venture there. Men are not known for their patience with dwarves and we don’t want the word getting out.” Gandalf explained, or at least it was a wizard version of an explanation which always seemed to state facts and not quite explain anything.

“What word?” Billa frowned.

“None of that now. Hobbits were made to smile and dance and eat good food.” Gandalf patted her shoulder and then was somehow gone from both from the wagon and Billa’s side.

Billa shouldn’t have expected anything else, really. Gandalf only ever answered questions which suited him. So Billa shrugged her shoulders in a very unladylike manner and was off running to the tree. She would dance and eat and have a great time and then in the morning she would ask the pebbles to keep the slippery wizard in sight.

****

Bella sat away from the party, smoking her pipe and watching her beautiful daughter twirl among the hobbits. She was her greatest treasure and she was growing up so fast.

“I never thought I would see the day when Belladonna Took hid from a party and choked on melancholy.” Gandalf suddenly said as he sat himself right next to Bella, scaring years of her life away.

She decided to ignore his obvious provocation and turned back to the sight of her daughter, “She’s gotten so big.”

“Yes. I’ve noticed. She is a dwarf in many ways, and already she could be one of those fighting at Khazad-dûm if not for her age. But when she spoke to me earlier I couldn’t help but see she was also more hobbit then one would expect when looking at her. She is maturing faster than any dwarf I’ve ever met.” Gandalf said thoughtfully.

“I think it’s the combination. She has the strength and persistence, the endurance of a dwarf, their thirst for knowledge and adventure, but when it comes to practicality and kindness, the simple things like affection and love, she is all hobbit. She’s soaking up information like any hobbit tween would, but with the will of a dwarf and I have yet to find anything that could stop her.” Bella shared, unsure if she was more proud or scared of what life held for her child.

“Dwarves are battle ready in their early forties and when Thráin led his dwarves to Moria, there were many of that age fighting.” Bella shuddered at the very thought but Gandalf continued, “However, they only reach majority at the age of eighty two. Before that time they are cared for by their elders and are not allowed to even accept courting gifts without them being first seen by someone older in the family. Billa is close to battle ready even now, so I would suggest you consider her a grown dwarf by the age of thirty three.”

“How can they possibly be ready for battle at the age of forty then? It’s ridiculous.” Bella’s indignation rose.

“Because they are taught how to fight from the moment they are strong enough to hold a sword, and in their early forties they stop growing. From that point on only their muscles develop and their beards fill out. They have the bodies but not the experience and for a warrior race every dwarf counts.” Gandalf explained.

Bella thought for a while in silence, her head filled with fears, until she dared to voice one, “I feel as if my final hours are approaching.”

Gandalf said something that sounded much like a curse despite the unknown language before he leaned back. “You are his One. I knew that, of course, for Thráin would have never taken you to his bed otherwise. I’ve never asked if he told you of his wife?”

“She was a beautiful lady of the court and Thráin’s father needed heirs. I know he loved her very much, just as I love Bungo. But my heart was never complete before I met Thráin and I will only settle once we are together again. One.” Belly smiled with affection. “I know Dis was just a babe when Smaug came and took his wife away. Thráin shed tears as he told me, and I could never be jealous of a woman who’d deserved his love and who bore him children, Billa’s siblings.”

“Dwarves can survive the loss of their One. They trudge on, persistent and stubborn as is their race, but hobbits are softer, kinder and love is one of the things you are made of. I wasn’t certain before, but now I think Thráin’s place in the Mahal’s halls is waiting for him and the one next to it is preparing for you.” Gandalf said softly.

“So the war is not for much longer.” Bella whispered.

“It could be years yet. For fifteen now, they have been existing in that valley, barely living and breathing the stench of orcs and dead bodies, but Thráin persists. I would venture a guess that once he falls Thorin will take his place, until either the mountain is theirs or Azog is dead.” Gandalf said grimly.

“Do wars usually last this long?” Bella wondered out loud. She knew all about the nasty orc who’d taken Thráin’s father, but she couldn’t believe the thing was still alive after all these years.

“Some. But this is more of a siege. The orcs have fortified themselves in the mines and while the battles are harsh with great losses, a lot of time for the dwarves is spent tending to their wounded and waiting in the valley. They have cattle and some fields and regular supplies from Iron Hills and even the Blue Mountains. But the dwarven kingdom is getting weak and their resources can’t sustain the war for much longer. I know the dwarves who were left behind are getting discontent. They feel they are fighting Erebor’s war and dying for a lost mountain. When Smaug came, the dwarves of Erebor ran with nothing, left at the mercy of their kin in other mountains and while that was a life of a sort it was never a home. They are desperate for the mines of Moria because while others can return to their mountains, those from Erebor will have to return and beg for sanctuary once more. That is not a life for a proud dwarf.” Gandalf finished sadly.

Bella sat there speechless, inexplicably sad but also seething at the dragon, the dwarves who obviously didn’t know what hospitality meant even if it smacked them on the head. Family should never beg. Bella nodded to herself, an idea forming in her mind.

“Would it be possible for you to arrange a contact between the Shire and the Blue Mountains? Someone you trust?” Bella asked as she looked at Gandalf.

“What do you have in mind, my dear?” Gandalf blew a ring of smoke which slowly turned into an image of Thráin and brought Bella to tears. It had been so long since she’d last seen him.

“I will arrange for them to receive some food. The Thain will help.” Bella nodded as she wiped the tears from her cheeks. It wouldn’t do for Billa to see her crying.

“I have someone in mind.” Gandalf said mysteriously as only he could and that was that.

****

So Bella went to her father and discussed options, not that there were many when it came to hobbits. Thráin was family as far as the Tooks were concerned, and they might not have met him but if he was anything like Billa he was a man worthy of Gerontius’ daughter. Now some, like Sackvilles, would say he’d left the Took daughter disgraced and fled into the night like a crook, but the Tooks knew some of the world and war was not something as easily disregarded as say a tea appointment or a minor courting step. Bella’s dwarf went there to fight for his home and if Bella was to be believed, her One went to war to die, and the Old Took trusted his daughter.

But Gerontius wasn’t a fool and from the little Bella had said, he knew even dwarves had sides. He drew up a contract offering help to the Erebor king despite dealing with the Blue Mountains and the work he asked for in return, the tools and hair clasps and the like, were to come from those left fretting for their Ereborian family.

When the first caravan came and the dwarves were shown exactly how much the hobbits were willing to offer for their work, many were left stumped while some of the prouder ones even exclaimed how they didn’t need anyone’s pity. However, that didn’t quite sit well with the Old Took and by the time he was done with the dwarves they were properly chastised and more than happy to leave with whatever was on offer.

Bella considered long and hard what to write in her letter, because her One didn’t know about his daughter and he certainly hadn’t heard a word from Bella in many years, but in the end it wasn’t fair to tell about a daughter he would never meet and speak to him about the joys she’d lived through while he was knee-deep in orc guts. So instead she sent him her love and all the happiness she could express with mere words and a red ribbon from her hair she knew would match his armor. There wasn’t a word in there about Bungo or her talented daughter, it was but a love letter from a hobbit to a dwarf who would never meet in life again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I found some information about dwarven majority, maturity and the like, but a lot of it was also speculation. I've chosen to go with 40&82 because it seemed to fit for me. I've read in a few places that the average year of age when they die is around 250, but then Dwalin died at the age of 340. So I'm gonna go with the assumption that they can actually live for over 300 years, but most either die in wars or get impatient or bored and find some kind of a battle around their 250th birthday which ultimately kills them. Yeah, depressing, I know.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I should mention it again; I'm changing everything from the original story and I'm not really sticking to the age/timeline/anything, plus you can expect some mistakes because while I do tend to watch for them I also easily miss them (or don't even know they are mistakes).
> 
> This won't be a quest story and I certainly won't write about the ring. While it's starting really slow, it is essentially a love story.
> 
> Let's meet Dwalin.

Dwalin stood in front of the wretched valley of Azanulbizar leaning on his war hammer and watched as his kin collected their dead. It was a start of another quiet period where the orcs ran once more to the safety of the mines, safety that should have belonged to the dwarves. He growled, the sound broken by another one of Dis’s screams.

He’d watched his adad, Fundin, die yesterday, but he’d seen too many die the same and couldn’t find anything else inside him but rage.

Dis screamed again and Dwalin turned to see Thorin crouching next to the tent, pale as the canvas behind him and pretending to support Villi, her new husband when he could barely stay conscious himself. The lad looked like he was about to be sick and Dwalin realized all of them were still children. Villi was barely seventy, Dis already birthing her first child at sixty three. None of it should have been happening. Battle ready didn’t mean ready for children when they were little more than dwarflings themselves.

But Erebor was gone, there was no home to call their own, and when Frerin fell three years ago, Thráin could do nothing but give permission for his youngest to wed. His nanu ‘azgh , a princess, wed on a battlefield. In trousers and an ax on her back. It was a disgrace for all Durin kin, to treat a dam in such away, for a king to not even have enough to provide her with a dress. But that was what it meant to be exiled from Erebor, to lose a home.

So now Mahal was gifting them with another Durin for the two they have lost since the war had begun and Dwalin still felt nothing but consuming rage.

“Caravan is coming!” Someone yelled from the back and Dwalin leaned to the side to watch.

It was another one of those filled with riches from the halflings. He didn’t know who had slept with whom in that scenario but since the first one had arrived five years ago Dwalin had been ready to kneel in front of that dwarf and offer a family debt.

They had been starving and wounded and whatever little strength they’d had was sucked out by the sheer lack of hope. Then Dwalin had seen their king drop down to his knees with a letter in hand, crying tears of joy and braiding a red ribbon in his hair. He’d had his doubts then, but as he tasted the preserved fruit, ate the dried meat and various other offerings, Dwalin had changed his mind, because no amount of sex could have paid for that kind of generosity.

The caravan was packed with enough food to hold them to the next one, it had dried fruit, jams and nuts that would last, but it also came with fabrics—somewhat colorful but still—and healing herbs to cure infections, kitted blankets to keep them warm under the mountains plus various clothing items with the same purpose. The caravan was filled with comforts and necessities, something they had been lacking for a very long time.

So when King Thráin sat his kin and what was left of his council down, the last thing any one of them expected was a letter from a Halfling ruler.

_To King Thráin son of Thrór_

_Warm greetings to mighty warriors,_

_As soon as I received news of your plight and what it exactly meant to be at war for fifteen years, I, the Thain of the Shire have come to an agreement with the Blue Mountains. By asking for certain metal repairs as well as some trinkets you dwarves are skilled in making we will provide you with a portion of our goods with each caravan headed your way._

_All this might come to you as a surprise but we hobbits are a peaceful race who appreciates good food and small comforts. We know little of war and trial you dwarves go through each day, but a small bit of home could never hurt. If the scolding I’d had to do to even send this your way was any indication, I expect the same reaction on your end and I will tell you right now, hobbits don’t deal with pity. The food is payment for the services provided and the services have been exceptional. If that is not a reason enough, Thráin son of Thrór, know that you have a family among us hobbits and families should always be taken care of._

_Another thing you should be aware of. While we did reach an agreement with the Blue Mountains, the contract was signed in the name of Erebor and all services provided have been done by the families exiled from the Lonely Mountain._

_May your belly be full, bed cozy and feet warm, my son._

_Oh, and battles successful, mustn’t forget that,_

_Thain of the Shire,_

_Gerontius Took_

Even now, five years later, it was still the strangest letter Dwalin had even read. Who did such a thing? They had been shuffled from one place to the next, when they had still been children, and each one was only more tragic. There was no place for them in Middle earth unless they made one for themselves, and then they were called family by halflings they’d never even set eyes on.

But it made a difference in the war. The dwarves fought harder, there was fire in their charges again and the number of dead orcs increased. Yet, five years later they were still in the same valley with too many dead to count and seemingly no closer to their goal. The mountain must have been breeding orcs for there to be so many of them.

Dis screamed again and then another, softer sound was heard. Villi jumped, eyes wide, both fear and excitement etched on his face, “-ê dashat “ 

It truly was a joyous sound of another heir being born, Mahal, another dwarfling. There were so few and so many had been lost. Their race would never recover from such a loss.

Dis yelled for Villi, then the king was called. By the time Thorin and Dwalin came inside, the babe had been cleaned and both parents had the biggest smiles on their faces.

“Come meet Filli, nadad. Dwalin, you as well.” Dis said with a shiny smile.

Thorin had recovered some but as he approached the bed he looked like he might see Azog at any moment, so Dwalin slapped him on the back hard and pushed him toward the bed, then followed a step behind.

Dis turned the babe to face them and little Filli was nothing if not a gift. As gold as his uncle, he was the jewel that dropped in the Durins’ laps every generation. Spun gold among the coal. Dwalin scowled—he was starting to sound like a blasted scribe.

The child started crying.

“Dwalin you’re scaring him. Stop scowling.” Dis ordered.

Dwalin scowled harder and looked at Thorin who was still looking at little Filli but was now as pale as a sheet. Bleedin’ heir to the throne was scared of a babe.

Dwalin’s scowl turned into a booming laugh and once Dis took in the expression on her brother’s face she happily joined.

“You two are as annoying as the blasted orcs.” Thorin spat then turned around and left the tent.

“Oh, I needed that.” Dis said through laughter, “I’ll milk that for years to come.”

“We both will, nana’” Dwalin agreed. “You have a beautiful child. You did good.”

Dis nodded with a pleased smile while Villi jumped in, “And I did nothing? I was the target for the past two years while the rest of you hid.”

“You married her, lad. It was your duty.” Dwalin told him and pretended he didn’t see Dis snickering against her child while Villi spluttered speechless.

“Enjoy him while the orcs regroup.” Dwalin then said serious and left the happy family alone.

The next years would be a trial. Filli wasn’t the first child born on the battlefield, some even came with them from Ered Luin, but he was a Durin and Durins had no friends farther than Azanulbizar, none trustworthy enough to take care of a future heir.

They might as well have made a home in the valley. If you ignored all the death and orcs it wasn’t far from any other place they’ve been to since the loss of Erebor.

“I hear we have another golden heir to the throne, nadad.” Balin appeared by his side as he had a habit of doing. Dwalin rarely had a chance to wallow in his own bitterness since his brother had a Dwalin sense instead of the stone one.

“Yes. The babe cried and Thorin almost fainted.” Dwalin shared with a smirk.

“Oh, that lad. So fierce all the time but when it comes to life he’s no different than any of you other dwarflings.” Balin chuckled while Dwalin just scowled again.

“Wipe that look off your face, lad. We might be at war but you still have some years to come of age and I don’t want you turning into a hardened warrior before your time.” Balin slammed his fist into Dwalin’s shoulder, almost knocking him off his feet despite Dwalin’s size.

“He’s another dwarfling on the battlefield, brother.” Dwalin said looking at the smoking piles of burning bodies.

“There is nothing for it. Those who keep the little ones with us have no place else to send them. Besides, I believe some of them are eating better here since the hobbits had started adding to the caravan then they have since the fall of Erebor. It almost makes you wish for the war not to end, doesn’t it?” Balin patted him on his back then left him to his thoughts.

Only Dwalin didn’t want to think anymore. There were no solutions and they would either die out in front of the gates or win a mountain. The only other solution would have them right back at the start, with fewer brothers, less coin and homeless once more. Fate couldn’t be so cruel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations come from Dwarrow Scholar and I'm really grateful for it. Again, there might be mistakes, but I've explained what was meant with certain expressions.
> 
> Nanu – sister of  
> ‘azgh – war  
> nanu ‘azgh - sister of war (but let's read it - **war sister** )  
> -ê – my  
> Dashat – son  
> -ê dashat - let's read it - **my son**  
>  nadad - brother  
> nana- sister
> 
> I have found another word for son, but this one sounded more Khuzdul and honestly, I don’t plan on ever learning the language so I’m quite satisfied with the translations I find online. Another big thanks to the Dwarrow Scholar.


	7. Chapter 7

With years drawing closer to Billa’s majority, the adventures increased and instead of simple travels to Bree, Billa met the rangers. The sword handling became a daily thing and Billa discovered she was quite skilled with a bow. She learned to track and heal and together with Bella set out for her first journey to the Blue Mountains.

Now Bella had been to Rivendell a few times, satisfying her own need for adventure and searching for books for Billa, but this was the first time Billa would be traveling farther than Bree and this time it was just the two of them.

“I still think we should have waited for a ranger to pass this way and give us an escort.” Billa said while riding her pony.

“Nonsense. I’ve travelled all the way to Rivendell on my own, and the Blue Mountains should be even closer.” Bella found it a bit more difficult to ride considering her smaller size, but Billa had outright refused to travel on foot.

“Yes, well. You’ve had company each time you went there, and it’s rather straight forward. I know for certain that orcs attack this road as well as bandits on occasion. It’s not as safe.” Billa countered. She’d met enough rangers in her short life to inquire about everything and the few dwarves she’d seen with the passing caravan all said the same. The road was just not as safe and two lasses on their own was just asking for trouble.

Perhaps if Billa had been just a hobbit and her life had revolved around afternoon tea and her father’s prized tomatoes, she would have ignored the dangers as well, but Billa was never one to ignore or run from danger.

She knew exactly what they looked like. Billa had dressed in dark colors, her heavy boots giving the impression of a hobbit foot hiding inside how big they were, and she even had on a thick leather vest which wouldn’t do much against a sword but was better protection that nothing. Her mother had put on a fuss when she’d seen Billa binding her large breasts but Billa didn’t even care to comment. With her beard now long enough to brush she might just pass for a dwarf, at least when it came to Men. She knew no dwarf would mistake her way too pretty face for that of a young lad. But those were the gifts she was given at birth. Golden hair which all but glowed in the dark, too curly for a dwarf but too straight for a hobbit. A beard on a slightly round and soft face, but her father’s nose, which not big still looked nothing like a button nose of a hobbit. Even her eyes were dramatic, a piercing blue that combined with her gold hair made her appearance all the more shocking. Billa sighed. She could have dressed as a dwarf all she wanted, but despite her solid build and slightly wider shoulders, she had all the hobbit curves which were impossible to hide. She’d bound her hair in one long braid down her back and hid it under a large furry coat. The hood threw her face slightly in shadow and hopefully put focus on the two short swords strapped against her spine instead of her gender.

Now Bella just didn’t want to listen to reason. Her dress was good enough to win adad so it wouldn’t hurt any to wear it to the mountains as well. Why, dwarves were perfect gentlemen and none would hurt her. She was a lass, although an older one by now, but a lass nonetheless, and Bella wasn’t ashamed of her curves.

Billa rolled her eyes under her hood as soon as she remembered that particular conversation. It was all Gandalf’s fault. It was one thing to travel with a wizard and quite another to head out with nothing but your daughter, who while experienced with a weapons had never faced a battle.

She had half a mind to turn around and just go back, what with Bella’s red dress just about calling every deviant around to have a feel, because Bella had lost none of her beauty with age and that big smile… Billa scowled under her hood and pushed her pony to go faster. They couldn’t reach Ered Luin quickly enough.

“Do you think we’ll find everything you need in the mountains?” Bella asked trying to keep up with her daughter.

“Yes. They are weaponsmiths and no one works metal better than dwarves. You know one of my blades broke last month and the ranger’s sword wasn’t even a dwarven one. I can’t have that happen in battle. Besides, I’ve always wanted to see the mountains. This is as good of an excuse as any.” Billa smiled at her mother feeling rather excited for more than one reason.

Over the years her stone sense became more distinctive, more a part of her, and while she felt the stone deep underground all over the Shire, she couldn’t imagine what it would feel like when swallowing her whole. It already hummed to her, told her tales for as long as she was willing to listen and she wondered, if exposed, would the stone sing for her.

They camped that night away from the main road, hidden from the eyes of anyone traveling the same way and if Billa knew anything it was that neither of them would go hungry before they reached the mountains. They packed like hobbits when it came to food and the smell of dinner brought a smile to Billa’s face.

“You might be half-dwarf, but your appetite almost matches that of a hobbit these days.” Bella commented as she stirred the stew in the pot.

“It’s the training. I burn so much energy each day I have to replenish whenever I can.” Billa commented as she chewed on an apple until dinner was ready.

“I still remember when you resented that and the way your body was changing.” Bella added, hiding her mischievous smile from Billa.

“Well of course I did,” Billa scowled, looking just like her adad, “I was surrounded by all these soft hobbit lasses with jiggling arms and bouncing breasts when wherever I touched my own body, under the soft skin I found nothing except hard muscle. As if my beard didn’t already make me different enough.”

“I think your beard makes you look dashing.” Bella said almost giggling.

“You’re my mother, you have to say that. But I know you think I’m beautiful and I don’t exactly disagree, but it’s hard not to doubt myself sometimes when everyone around me is completely different. I wish I could meet a dwarrowdam, someone like me who could tell me I am perfectly normal. Although I’m not certain they would even say that. Maybe my hobbit curves make me too different to be likeable even among them.” Billa’s mood dropped the more she voiced her fears.

“You look like a blond version of your sister and I thought her beautiful as well. Don’t you worry, my jewel, they’re all going to just love you.” Bella encouraged, the pot forgotten and her short arm wrapped around her daughter.

“Do you think they will accept me when they come?” Billa asked softly, hating when she felt vulnerable. She was twenty eight and yet sometimes her mind took her back to all those times when as a child she asked for her adad and cried because he didn’t love her enough to come see her. But now she was old enough to understand that none of her family actually knew about her and she didn’t quite agree with her mother about keeping secrets but understood the reasoning up to a point. They were at war and they truly didn’t need a distraction. It could make them happy or cause resentment among the siblings. Anything was possible, but Billa still felt cheated out of a family and couldn’t help but hate the situation a little.

“I don’t have the slightest doubt, my jewel. They are going to love you the moment they see you.” Bella reassured.

“Maybe I’ll meet my One, too.” Billa smiled, thinking how that wouldn’t be half-bad. She couldn’t wait to see what all the fuss was about when it came to bodies and tumbling. She had no interest in the rounded hobbit bodies, sometimes afraid she would break them if she just pushed a bit harder let alone something more. Now dwarves on the other hand, they were something else. All muscle and hair and power, even the older ones always made her squirm if they stared too long, but she knew none of those she’d seen were the that right dwarf who was made just for her and she didn’t trust outsiders enough to give them a part of herself.

“You know, I think you just might. I have a feeling he’s going to exceed your expectations.” Bella nodded.

Billa turned serious, remembering a conversation she’d heard a long time ago, so she looked at her mother’s eyes and asked, “Just like you have a feeling you won’t be with us for much longer?”

Bella froze for a moment before breathing out heavily. “I’m sorry you heard that.” She paused, looking into the distance but instead of sorrow Billa was used to seeing on her mother’s face each time her thoughts wandered, this time she looked happy. “I never knew a hobbit could feel this deeply for someone. You see, with most things there are tales, those which speak of victorious deeds or border on fantasy but are still entertaining to hear. In each of them there is a bit of truth, something like it had happened before and was embellished over the years and turned into nothing more than a story. That is, until it happens again. But this, what I feel for your adad, it’s not something that’s ever been told before. Perhaps a hobbit never loved a dwarf or the dwarf was too secretive to share such a tale, but with this love came the knowledge of knowing where he is, how he is feeling. I could close my eyes right now and my feet would take me straight to Moria. I know when he hurts or when he’s victorious and I’m sure he feels it each time I am so happy I could burst, and it keeps him going. That is why I knew all those years ago that his end is coming, but when I sent that first caravan his way, the tide of war changed. If not he would have died years ago, I’m sure of it.”

Billa knew she looked scared, and she was. It was terrifying to think she could have lost her adad already and that she still might. “And now?” She asked in the smallest of voices.

Bella smiled at her sadly, “No more than two years now. He’s exhausted. The lost lives burden him and even he is frightened that he might slip up, let the enemy come too close. It will happen soon.”

“And what about you?” Billa was terrified of her mother’s answer.

“I will follow quickly. My pull to him is too strong to resist.” Bella whispered.

Billa had expected a similar answer but it still hurt to hear it. So little time was left. “That’s why you wanted to go with me. To have more time. You didn’t want me to come home and not find you there.”

Bella just nodded and Billa couldn’t handle it. She got up and moved away from the fire, needing space and time to think, to come to terms with the inevitable .

Then she heard the words that made her skin crawl. **"Az- gazat tab flogr-ishi. Kul-akashuga-izub."**

There were orcs near them but no one seemed to have seen her move.

Billa backtracked to her mother and sat down. She took the offered bowl with a smile and whispered in short bursts of Khuzdul her mother would understand, “Stay calm. Orcs around. Be ready to fight.”

Bella started slightly, but she was so good with the unexpected even Billa could barely tell. Instead she started gossiping about this and that as they ate their dinner. Once done they slowly cleared everything and Billa stood saying, “Going to relieve myself. Back soon.”

She needed them to attack while she was still on her feet, and she knew her mother could deflect a couple of orcs well enough on her own. So she went a bit deeper into the surrounding forest and stood with a tree behind her back, pretending to fumble with her belt ties but instead she quietly slid out a long knife and held it close to her left forearm while her right hand just about hovered above her sword.

The orcs were quick, trying to be quiet but her pointy ears weren’t useless and the ground she stood on screamed its displeasure loud enough for Billa to know just how close the scum was.

Before they could utter their battle cry or come in reach, Billa jumped two steps in their direction and cut one straight across his face while defending from a slash of another.

She pushed the orc’s blade away from her with her sword and cut him from the left, her knife pushing upward from beneath his ribs. Right away she was moving, ducking to avoid a blow from the next one and sneaking in one of her own. She slid her knife in one clean move across his middle, gutting him, and as she stood she twisted, screaming as she swung her sword and beheaded the last orc.

Billa didn’t pause or hesitate. The head didn’t have time to roll and she was already running, listening to the sounds and hoping none of them were her mother’s screams. But Bella had already wounded an orc who was twisting on the ground and screeching, but the other was pushing her back, his blows much stronger than whatever defense she could muster with her short blade. The orc was toying with her, probably wanting her alive, and Billa wasted no time. She crossed the distance between them and without a sound slid her sword through him.

She turned toward the other one who looked at her with rage and spat, **“Ziimûrz glob!”**

Billa smirked and said, **“Snork aath,”** before finishing him off.

“Are you alright?” She ran to her mother, looking for any visual signs of her being hurt.

“No, no. Just scared still. I expected them, but then I wasn’t quite prepared once they came at me. I’m not sure that even makes sense.” Bella mumbled the last thing to herself then plopped down on a fallen log.

“I don’t think you can be prepared for violence unless you are used to it.” Billa comforted with a hesitant smile, then she turned to their packages and started cleaning off the blood.

The ponies were restless but still secured and she wanted as little of orc scent on her as she could manage before she went to calm them down.

“Will it be like this the whole way?” Bella asked some time later, when they were already packed and riding further away to find a new place where they could spend the night.

“Perhaps. I don’t know. Do you want to turn back?” Billa asked, not wanting to hear a positive answer but knowing she would head back to Shire if asked.

“No. When your adad asks, I want to be able to say we went on an adventure together. So we’ll handle all the orcs that come our way, won’t we?” Bella grinned and turned toward the full moon that was lighting up their way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Az- gazat tab flogr-ishi. Kul-akashuga-izub. – Kill the dwarf in his sleep. Halfling is mine
> 
> Ziimûrz glob. – cowardly filth
> 
> Snork aath. – worthless dog.
> 
>  
> 
> The info is from The land of Shadow page and is appreciated. 
> 
> But the language isn’t really developed and is more of a guessing game so in the future I think I’ll just put the Black Speech in bold.


	8. Chapter 8

As Ered Luin slowly rose in the distance, Billa felt as if she could finally breathe easier. Her butt had been numb after the first week of travel but now, after months on the road she found that ‘hard as steel’ expression could mean many things. Her thighs resembled blocks of stone from her constant tensing in the beginning in place of moving with the motions. It was all terribly awkward and painful, and she was more than ready to get back to her feet and just walk on her own.

The long bridges connecting various mountain tops leading toward the gates were wide but lacking any railing and while there was no ice or snow anywhere yet, the height and the exposure made Billa uncomfortable. They saw more dwarves and an occasional Man passing in both directions and instinctively Billa and Bella steered toward each other, both of them with their hoods pulled low.

They got a little attention, but not nearly as much as Billa had expected. The other travelers seemed tired, their clothes worn, and Billa wondered if that was the state of the rest of the mountain.

Once they neared the fortress growing out of the rising rock, Billa felt both intimidated as well as awed. There were balconies and towers stretching high up, and too many steps to count climbing to the front gates. Even from as far down as the two of them were, the gates looked large and Billa instinctively pulled her limbs closer to her body and tucked in her head, making herself look smaller.

“Mahitadin!” A guard yelled from one of the nearby tall, stone houses whose back sides were firmly connected to the mountain.

“We’ve come to trade.” Billa said loudly in Westron as they both stopped their ponies. While her Khuzdul was passable and she understood plenty, she’d never had a lesson with an actual dwarf in her life and she wasn’t willing to offend or find out just how many laws her mother and Gandalf had broken by bringing her books and helping her learn as much as she did.

“In what?” The dwarf barked, frowning.

“We require exceptional services of an Ereborian weaponsmith and are willing to pay handsomely.” Billa flattered. If there was something dwarves loved it was flattery, and she included herself in that assessment.

“Well, you’ve at least come to the right place.” The guard said in a somewhat softer voice, or as well as a dwarf could manage soft. “Does it have to be a Lonely Mountain smith or would any do? Those are not easy to come by considering the war an all.” He stroked his substantial beard.

“Not saying that everyone else does poor work, because there are no better craftsmen than those of the dwarven kind. We are bound by a contract, and all our business goes to exiles of Erebor.” Billa explained, and told no lie. She would have been pleased with the work of any dwarf or dam, but she could never pay anyone if it meant her father’s people would lose potential profit. She wouldn’t have been able to sleep at night.

But as the words reached the ears of the others at the base of the mountain, everyone stopped and whispers started. Even Billa’s pony squirmed in place and Billa couldn’t help it but suddenly feel unwanted. “Is our business unwelcome here?” She asked as the guards exchanged words among themselves.

“No, no. You are more than welcome. We only know of one contract with Erebor and children of Mahal have never been so blessed as when that one was written. Any commission from the Shire is more than welcome.” The guard hastened to say.

“Very well.” Billa inclined her head, “Is it possible to get a bed and some food around here, before we find our smith?”

“It would be our honor. But we’ll need to see your face first lad. We can’t let anymore in the mountain just on their word.” He pointed at their hoods while the guard next to him gripped his weapon tighter.

Billa wondered how many times they were tricked for that kind of a reaction to become instinctual, but she still said to her mum, “Remove the hood and spread the cloak so they can see your arms are far from any weapons.”

She followed her own advice and spread open her cloak with her hands before pushing the hood off her face. Right away whispers started again and the guards reeled back as if struck. If not for the random words in Khuzdul she understood, her old insecurities would have broken her on the spot. But the compliments like jewel, beautiful and a dam, did plenty for her chipped self-image. She heard that word again, Durin, and wondered if perhaps someone here could explain it, but the thought fled as the guard recovered.

“It will be our pleasure to host you, dam.” And they did quick work of handling their ponies, got dwarfs to carry some of their travel equipment and led them to an inn. The place was empty for the most part, but Billa didn’t expect anything else considering it was only mid-day.

The two of them settled in comfortably and Billa knew she could fit very well there. The whole trip with her mother felt as if she was born for it. The aspects of being the one in the lead, the security she felt and the confidence in her own abilities. She’d spent enough time with the rangers, bounders and males in general that she had a sense for predators and the ingrained intuition of how to act in potentially dangerous situation. Why, just talking to that guard felt natural. She felt it deep down, which insinuations would have been insulting and what the dwarf expected when he failed to use his words. Partially, she was sure, she went with her own likes and dislikes, some of it was pure language of the body, but she was good at it and already the mountains felt inviting.

Then she settled down on the bed, clean, fed and in a new set of clothes and let the stone sense overwhelm her. Billa might have screamed but if she had, she was not aware of it. The mountain latched onto her like a leech and it was exhausted, so tired and old, wishing to give the dwarves a home but fearing she had already given all the gems that were to be found. She was almost weeping for their pain as they were made of stone just like her and as such they were _hers_. The mountain was possessive and Billa had expected nothing less, but she also wanted to rest, to have the dwarves make a living there but cease their digging and just let her settle into silence. And yet they were hers and she would give them anything they asked.

It just about broke Billa’s heart. The mountain wanted to give her dwarves both shelter and food and while it easily provided the first, without the resources all her tenants were likely to starve. If the war was lost, all the dwarves from the Lonely Mountain would head back and Billa feared what their lives would be once they arrived. She pulled away from the mountain’s cries and came back to herself with tears in her eyes. If only there was something she could do, Billa thought before falling into restless sleep.

****

“Gren son of Ren, at your service.” A stocky dwarf dressed in protective leather bowed slightly as he introduced himself to Billa. He had three thick braids in his grey beard and many more in his hair which was bound into one long rope down his back. Billa was somewhat envious of the various beads and clasps she could see, they were quite beautiful and she might have been a half-hobbit but she still had an eye for pretty things.

With the corner of her eye she saw her mum smirking and Billa instantly lifted her gaze to the dwarf’s eyes. She’d had quite enough teasing due to her love of shiny trinkets and she certainly didn’t need it mentioned in company.

“Billa Baggins, at yours.” Billa followed his example and if the dwarf thought it strange that she had a hobbit name, he failed to comment on it just as the others before him.

“Wha’ can I do for ya’, my dam?” Gren asked as he took off his gloves.

“I need some weapons and perhaps a few pieces of armor, but nothing too heavy.” Billa said hesitating for the first time. She was proficient with the more usual weapons as the rangers mostly used swords or bows, but just looking at the dwarves she’d passed on her way to the forge, she knew there were so many more options and she had no idea if any of them would work for her.

“Not quite sure wha’ ya’ want, eh’?” Gren smirked at her then took off his leather protection and motioned for the two of them to follow.

He led them to some type of a training ground where a couple of dwarflings practiced with wooden swords under the supervision of another dwarf. In a nook, slightly off to the open ground, various weapons were on display and Gren picked up one of the heavier looking swords.

“Let’s see wha’ you’ve got, Miss Baggins.” Gren said and Billa barely managed to take off her coat before they were off.

She moved a lot more than him, avoiding and ducking blows where Gren pushed forward with brute force and swung hard enough for her arm to tingle. But Billa pushed on, now frowning and unwilling to give up. She upped her blows and did her best to swing harder until Gren stepped away saying, “Easy, Miss Baggins, was just trying to see wha’ you’re made of. But ‘ere, try this.” He went back to the display and picked out two identical swords.

Billa tested them in her hands and found she was quite happy with the way they fit, but then Gren was off again and Billa moved with a sudden grin on her face. It was much easier to deflect his blows and while her left hand wasn’t as strong, she still found the combination suited her much more despite Gren’s sword being longer.

“Aye, two blades for ya’, lass. What else?” Gren tilted his head considering.

Billa straightened up, slightly out of breath, “I’m good with the bow and I like using knives up close.”

“Oh, we’ll get ya’ your knives but ya’ need something else, lass. How ‘bout throwin’, any good at that?” Gren was already back in the room, pulling out various weapons.

He positioned her in front of a target and showed her how to place herself, how to grip a small axe, blade and even these strange long needles. Some hit the target and elegantly bounced, while others missed all together.

“That’ll do, lass. But ya’ need one other, something special. Let’s see wha’ can ya’ do with a long axe.” Gren seem almost excited as he disappeared among the display.

What he brought back had Billa gulping. It was some kind of an axe, but it had an extremely long handle and a sharpened axe edge on each end.

“This takes skill, but if ya’ can hold it ya’ just might be able to wield it.” Gren moved back to have some room then started spinning the axe around his hands and above his body only to end the move with one big spin where even Billa could imagine orcs falling all around him as the sharp edge cut them down. She liked it.

Billa could hold it, and if she would get anything out of this adventure it would be ability to wield it. “Can anyone here teach me?”

“Now, not many fight with this kind of axe. The edges are made thin and fighting with it takes speed, feet movement. Ya’ have all that, lass but not many dwarfs do. If they’re interested, your teachers will find ya’.” Gren said with a smile, “Now ya’ just work on it and I’m gonna make ya’ your weapons.”

So Billa did work on it, that day and the next, and the next. First she was on her own, but soon dwarfs joined her, each one with an advice or two and slowly but surely, Billa learned how to throw both blades and knives, but preferred the knives. Needles seemed like something very practical. They were light and easy to throw, but once she learned they were usually dipped in poison, she ordered a set from Gren, just in case.  
By the time her weapons were finished, Billa had found another dwarf to make her a light armor with good boots and another to tailor some thicker, dwarven clothes. Everything seemed to fit better than it ever did in the Shire and it made Billa feel comfortable in her skin like she’s never been before.

Bella had made friends who were happy to accompany her around the mountain, she worked out details around the caravans and answered questions about the Shire and Billa rarely worried about her. She was free to focus on her acquiring skills and all the things she never thought she could do.

When proud looking Gren found her on the grounds one day, large wrapped packages in his hands, Billa’s heart skipped.

“There ya’ are, lass. Come, take a look.” He put everything on a circular bench bordering the training ground and picked up the second largest package.

Billa unwrapped it slowly, nervous without knowing quite why, to reveal two scabbards turned so that the openings were on the opposite sides and connected next to each other. She pulled out one of the swords and gasped. The sword was slightly curved with a pointed tip and the edge was sharpened all along one side and from the tip to the middle of the other. But what made it more impressive was the hollowed out piece on the thickest part and the carvings all along the length. They moved as if telling a story and Billa couldn’t wait to hear them sing.

“I never expected something this beautiful. You are a true master Mister Gren.” Billa whispered, her fingers touching the marbled, red handle of the sword.

“Only the best for the most beautiful dam in the mountain.” Gren tipped his head slightly but Billa saw the blush on his cheeks.

“This is how you put it on.” Gren started explaining, then called, “Oy, lad!” and a young dwarf ran to them.

Gren tied the scabbard over the dwarf’s shoulders and across his chest so that the stayed tilted, following the line from his shoulder to his hip.

“Now I’ve made them like so, to make room for your axe.” Gren then hurried to the bench and picked up the biggest package.  
Billa could recognize the axe shape even with the packaging, but she was far from prepared for the final revelation. Unlike the axe she’d been practicing with, this one had a slightly longer handle and the both ends of it were finished with a double edged axe. The weapon was lighter than the practice one, despite having two extra blades and Billa was instantly in love with it. It also had some red in it, a thin line followed the whole length of the handle and Billa blushed as she thought her axe was just pretty. Such an undwarfish thing to think.

“It latches on like this, “ Gren secured the axe in the middle of the scabbard on the dwarf’s back and Billa noticed how everything was positioned safely so that when she would reach for either of her swords she wouldn’t cut herself.

“It looks mighty complicated, but there’s a system to it.” Gren showed the ties on the scabbard which held the axe. “It takes a bit to secure it, but once you need it in battle, all ya’ gotta do is this.” Gren had the dwarf grip the handle at his lower back, then with his other hand he pulled a little piece of leather and the axe released. “Now you can swing it and start fighting even with that first stroke.”

It truly was quite brilliant, Billa thought, and Abnâmul was all hers. She only hoped that name never slipped her lips in dwarfish company.

Gren also made her an individual set of throwing needles, knives and axes. For some reason she wasn’t all that enamored with the axes, but she supposed they had their use. Everything he made had a bit of red in it and Billa felt it was now her signature.

She couldn’t thank the dwarf enough and despite his refusal to receive payment, Billa was prepared to spend the night staring him down and getting her way. She wouldn’t owe anyone anything, caravans or not.

Despite planning on leaving right after her commissions were done, Billa and Bella stayed in the Blue Mountains for some more months until Billa felt comfortable with handling her new weapons.

She said goodbye to the mountain and wished all the best to Gren and as she left the dwarves, in addition to the weapons, Billa was armed with extra knowledge of Khuzdul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mahitadin – halt  
> Abnâmul – shapely/beautiful


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cried as I wrote this one, yeah.

Gossiping with her Took cousins had Billa running home for tea. While most of the Shire was used to her by now she still got along best with the Tooks. In fact, she was behind some of their own adventures, when she played with their egos and asked what the Middle Earth was coming to when a lass could go to the Blue Mountains and yet a Took found Bree too far. They thanked her later, sure, but the scolding from their mothers she could have gone without.

When she was younger she often wondered what Gandalf sometimes murmured under his breath and why it sounded an awful lot like ‘fool of a Took’, but as she got older and started noticing things, especially during parties and in hidden little nooks, Billa understood the poor wizard better. All that aside, if there was anyone she could lean on in the Shire, it was the Tooks and yet Billa was about to discover that even family was sometimes not enough.

Billa took off her boots at the door and hung up her swords, the only weapons she carried with her all the time.

“Wash up!” Her mum yelled from the kitchen, and Billa hurried through the motions, taking off all the heavy clothes and replacing them with something more hobbit like.

After cleaning herself up, she walked into the kitchen and asked, “Need help with anything, mum?”

Bella looked at her with a smile, tea pot in her hands when suddenly she stumbled and went pale, the tea pot dropping to the floor and breaking.

Billa rushed to her, catching her before she could fall, but Bella only went paler, her hand clutching her chest and her breathing turning into harsh rasps.

“Papa, papa, come quick!” Billa yelled, lifting her mum into her arms and taking her to the bedroom.

But Bella only stared up ahead, her complexion not improving one bit.

“Billa? Where are you? What’s wrong?” Bungo shouted sounding frightened.

“In the bedroom, papa. Something is wrong with mum.” Billa wiped away her tears, as she opened a few buttons of Bella’s shirt to help her breathe.

Bungo came quickly, touching his wife’s forehead and listening to her heart. “I’ll fetch the healer.”

Billa barely paid attention to him, “Mum, mum, what is it?” she lightly caressed her mother’s pale cheeks.

Then Bella’s eyes finally focused and she turned toward her daughter, still gripping at the vest covering her chest, “Thráin,” she rasped and Billa’s eyes widened in horror.

“No, no, no, no, mum, you can’t, mum!” She yelled as Bella’s eyes closed, her arm falling down to the cool sheets, “Don’t leave me mum,” Billa screamed gripping at her mum’s shoulders and buried her face in her neck. “Don’t leave, stay with me, please mum. I love you, please don’t leave.” Billa sobbed, her sounds tortured and uncontrollable.

“Billa, Billa, what is it?” Bungo came rushing but the healer pushed forward first and checked Bella’s breathing and her heart then sadly shook his head away at Bungo.

Bungo dropped down to his knees, his fists trembling as he anchored them against his thighs. No. Not his beautiful Bella. Tears slid down his face but Bungo was too far away to notice. Unlike Billa he didn’t sob or scream he just felt, and at that place deep inside where he usually found laughter and joy, his wife’s smile and the strength of her spirit, now he felt nothing but a void.

“Mum, mum…” Billa whimpered caressing her mother’s hair, convincing herself that Bella would wake up any minute now, any minute now. They still needed to have tea and a hobbit never missed tea.

But as hours passed and the healer’s words went unheard, as Billa begged and pleaded for the dead to awaken and Bungo sunk deeper and deeper into himself, Bag End fell into darkness and there was nothing left in the wake of day but inexplicable sadness.

****

As Billa’s skin tingled with goose flesh and her tears dried up, she hugged her mother’s cool body and stared into nothing. She wasn’t ready to let go. Not even when the healer came back with lit up lanterns and explained how it was time to take her away. She understood him, realized that Bella was no more, but how does one just get up and accept it, say goodbye to someone who was already gone.

Even to that there was an answer, and perhaps those were the only words the healer could have used to get her moving, “Billa, something is wrong with Bungo.”

And terrified as she was, after her mum being there one moment and just slipping away the next, Billa jumped to her feet then promptly collapsed, her legs stiff and unresponsive.

“Here, Billa, let me help.” The healer said, and as Billa looked up at him, she realized it was Malachi Burrow she was speaking to, the information only just reaching her mind.

Billa took his hand and carefully stood then, finally, took notice of poor Bungo. She screamed in distress at his vacant stare and quickly dropped down by his side.

“Papa, papa, it’s Billa, can you hear me?” She smoothed his hair and patted his cheek, wiping away what was left of old tears. He was cool to the touch, and probably completely stiff, kneeling there like that. She had to wake him up.

Billa hugged him close and whispered in his ear, “I love you papa and I know you love me to. I need you to come back now and hold me like a papa should. What will I do all alone and without my papa to talk away my fear, why, I would just drop down in front of any Sackville or a Proudfoot and cry? Please papa, come back to me, please papa.” Billa pleaded and kissed her father’s cheek, hoping beyond hope he wouldn’t just slip away.

Then Billa got mad and terribly frightened, thinking of the whole smial just for herself and sat back. A smial without her mother’s laughter or the smell of her father’s pipe. There would be no more calls to dinner or funny stories by the fire, all that would be left was silence without even one more person to love her.

So in her fear and utter despair, still kneeling on the wooden floor in front of her father, Billa put her fists on her hips and shouted, “Bungo Baggins, you better snap out of whatever terror you’ve gotten trapped in and come hug me or I’ll just, I’ll just… Why I’ll just slap you silly and throw all your old Toby in the Brandywine!”

She heard healer Malachi gasp behind her, but it was Bungo who got her attention. He turned toward her slowly and whispered, “Billa?”

“Oh, papa,” Billa almost whined and pulled him into a hug, doing her best not to cry on him, but she was just so scared of being alone and her papa was the only one she had left.

“Hush, sweet child, everything will be alright.” Bungo whispered, hugging her tight and patting her back gently.

And perhaps it would be alright, after all, her papa was still there and despite this little fright, he would be alright.

They held each other for a long time that night, and Bungo finally managed to stand up, complaining all the while about his old bones and damn hard floors, but they survived that night and that was all that mattered.

****

Come morning, as she woke, her head in Bungo’s lap and her cheeks sticky and in need of a wash, Billa couldn’t quite make herself get off the floor next to Bungo’s armchair. Her thoughts drifted back in time, to the sight of her mother so weak and fading away, when Billa felt it like a blow and dropped to her hands, nose touching the wood.

“Adad,” she whispered, a painful whine breaking out of her chest. “Adad,” she whispered again as she realized Thráin too was gone and with him she didn’t even get a chance to exchange a glance. She never met him and now he was gone, both of them were gone.

Billa hugged herself, pressing her forehead against the floor and realized that the wounded howl was coming from her and the pain in her chest was that last sliver of hope just dying away. Because she did hope, each time she had begged her mother for a tale, each time she lifted a sword. She was a warrior for her father, for a dwarf who never even knew she breathed.

“It will be alright Billa, get up, my dear.” Bungo pulled at her arms trying to pull her into a hug.

“Gone, papa, they are both gone.” She whispered, her eyes teary and wide with innocent disbelief, and if Bungo’s heart could have broken more, his daughter’s pain would have certainly done it.

“I know, my dear, but they are together now, they are One again.” He said softly, and years would pass before Billa realized just how much that comfort had cost her papa, because Bella and Thráin might have been One, but where did that leave Bungo?

Eventually the tears slowed down until both of them were too spent to cry anymore. Days slipped into weeks and the Tooks became fixtures in their home. The silence Billa had been afraid of never came to pass, and her days were filled with stories, sounds of her cousins’ laughter and little feet thumping away through the smial.

Yet, the sorrow remained, and while Billa was young enough to look forward, there was no forward for Bungo. He smiled when the situation demanded it, and he puttered and fussed like a true Baggins, but with each day that slipped away, his eyes were a little duller and his step a fraction slower.

Elves call it fading, but for hobbits it’s wasting away. Four months after Bella’s death, when the sun rose bright and warm, Bungo didn’t, and Billa had to bury her father too, and no child’s laughter could have stitched her heart back again.

The day Bungo went into the soft ground, Billa snipped her beard one bit at a time overwhelmed with sorrow, then, still feeling the deep ache of loss she shaved the stubble away. Not just for her papa, but for her mum and adad as well. She was alone now and it was time to make her own way.

****

The next morning Billa was knocking on the door of Gerontius Took and was ushered into the family home.

“Come, my beautiful granddaughter, let’s chase the sorrow away.” Gerontius whispered as he pulled her down to press a kiss against her forehead.

Billa smiled wistfully before following him into his office. She settled down, thoughts one the other end of Middle Earth when Gerontius called her back.

“Do you wish to stay with us, child?” He asked, very well aware of the pain loss could bring at his age.

“No, grandpapa, it’s time for me to go away.” Billa whispered.

“Where will you go? To the Blue Mountains again?” The Old Took was genuinely curious.

“No. I’m not quite sure myself, but I have to leave the Shire. That’s all I know.” Billa said, looking at him, and Gerontius knew there was no changing her mind.

“What do you need from me?” He asked instead.

“Could you take care of Bag End and all the Baggins businesses until I come back? I don’t want anyone moving in or my father’s work wasted.” Billa explained.

“Do you have their will?” Gerontius extended his hand already knowing both his daughter and Bungo took care of such things. As he read through the words he wasn’t surprised by the small sentence in both wills allowing Billa to manage both the business and Bag End on her own and before her coming of age. She was certainly capable, but the tongues would be wagging and like the Took he was, Gerontius planned on sitting back to enjoy it.

“I will take care of everything, my child. Don’t you worry about a thing.” He said and Billa nodded sadly, before standing up and rounding his table to hug him.

Within days Bag End’s papers were settled and the Baggins fortune in the safe hands of the Old Thain. The Tooks watched in sorrow as their Billa climbed up a pony, armed to the teeth with a large hooded cloak hiding her from sight and with hardly a wave left the Shire behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like a band-aid, all of them in one go.


	10. Chapter 10

The Durins were broken. It wasn’t even about a home anymore. After close to thirty years of fighting it was clear Khazad-dûm would stay in the hands of orcs. No, now it was about revenge. Thrór, Frerin, Fundin, Thráin, all dead. The Durin’s great and all bested by the same white scum. As if they were all born under an unlucky star and one measly orc was a better warrior then the dwarven kings and heirs.

Dwalin sat sprawled in one of the chairs in the royal tent. He was bone tired, the orcs at it again for the past week and despite being covered in orc blood and frankly stinking, he couldn’t force himself to move. He watched as Dis entertained her little devils, one golden the other black and both a handful.

Little Killi stumbled, not yet the best on his feet, but Filli caught him as if it were instinct to always have one eye on his brother and they were off again, jumping over beds, running under chairs and overall screaming like the orcs were after them.

Despite all the bitterness Dwalin had been collecting over the years, he couldn’t help it but love the little ones. They gave him hope and there was little else to be had among all the bloodshed.

“She’s at it again, the blasted masked dam!” Thorin pushed into the tent and threw his helmet into the corner of the tent.

Dwalin smirked, siting up straight in anticipation. The dam had been fighting with them for the past year, but always alone and without any point of touch with another dwarf. She was a mystery.

“She just swooped in front of us, spun her double edged axe and danced away. Danced, Dwalin! Who does that?” Thorin ranted, his fist clenched and the ever present scowl deep.

Balin came in after him and tried rationalizing things, “She’s killing orcs, and as long as she’s helping us we should leave well enough alone. Besides, you can’t know she’s a dam, no one has seen her face.”

But Dwalin smirked and shaped a dam’s curves in the air in front of him, “Oh, we know she’s a dam.”

He heard Filli whispering behind him, “’Amad, what does that mean?”

Thorin snorted and rubbed at his shorn beard before dropping down in a chair. “I just want to know who she is. I’m the king, shouldn’t I know these things?”

“She’s a dwarrowdam killing orcs. You know who she is, Thorin.” Balin said.

“Maybe she’s a disgrace and that’s why she’s wearing the mask in the first place.” Dwalin shared his thoughts.

“What about her hair? I’ve never known anyone to have a shade of gold even close to that except a Durin.” Dis asked as she passed her fingers through Filli’s still short but already golden strands.

“Well, the Groin’s heirs are leaning more to the red. Of the Gror’s there’s only Dain left and you’re it as far as the heirs go.” Balin listed the names.

But Thorin was looking at Dwalin suspiciously so Dwalin cut that at the start, “Hey, don’t look at me like that, if Balin or I had a child you’d know. Besides, we were too young for it before the war and there’s no way she’s a dwarfling.”

“She’s just driving me insane. It’s been over a year now and she drops in, passes through the orcs like a storm and then she’s gone again. We should honor her for all the lives she’d saved at the very least. The other day I saw her cut the neck of an orc at Gloin’s back. He would have been dead without her, but then she was gone again and barely anyone realized what had happened.” Thorin moaned, and it was rare for him to complain instead of just suffering in silence, so Dwalin was soaking up the moment. It was funny.

“She’s skilled, I’ll give you that. But I only ever caught sight of her from afar. Reminded me of Frerin with those twin swords of her, but the fighting style is all different. No Durin fights like that.” Dwalin remembered the couple of times he’d seen the dam in battle.

“That’s nothing. You should have seen her with that axe. I swear everyone stopped the one time I saw her swinging it. She was like a whirlwind, twisting it around herself and above her head. No one neared her and it even cut arrows from the air. Almost lost my head that day, I was struck dumb just watching her.” Dis said. She had been back in battle as soon as she’d recovered from birthing Killi and just as unstoppable as before.

“She’s doin’ her part and we should respect that. But none of us can go on like this for much longer, Thorin. Our people are dying out and we’ve lost two kings to this war already.” Dwalin looked at his best friend and brother in arms.

“I know. But unless we kill the pale orc he’s gonna follow us until there are no more Durins left. I can’t let that happen.” Thorin said, his eyes on Filli and Killi.

“The next time he comes out, we should focus on separating him from the others and getting him away from the mountain.” Balin offered, his grip tightening on his sheathed sword.

“Then that’s what we’ll do. It is time to end this.” Thorin nodded, “Let’s get some rest for now, the battle will still be waiting once we’ve rested.

****

The dawn was breaking when Dwalin joined the fight again. Others, too tired after hours of fighting moved out of the fray and let others take their place. It was a well-worn strategy after all these years, and Dwalin rushed forward to distract the orcs so some of the others could leave.

“Du Bekâr!” Dwalin yelled, swinging his axes and cutting down orcs. This was in his blood, the dirt on his lips, the sound of screams in his ears and the feel of a blade cutting through flesh. It was what he was born to do and Dwalin knocked down an orcs with his forehead then beheaded the next one while pushing away the third with a well-placed kick in his middle.

They were like a disease upon Middle Earth, swarming like insects without an end in sight, but Dwalin could go for hours and as one after the other fell when he passed, Dwalin once again lost track of time.

The sun was slipping down the sky, each time he looked it fell a bit lower, and the thirst was getting to him as the doors to Khazad-dûm gaped open and more orcs kept pouring out. When he fell down to his knees, two orcs grinning at him in what they though was victory, Dwalin pulled out his knife and cut the fingers of the one reaching for him, while ducking a sword aiming for his neck. He threw himself forward and knocked the second one down before he pushed away and slammed his knife in the orc’s eye.

He saw the sword coming for him a moment too late and as he turned to face the orc, he couldn’t do anything but put his back into it and fall back, but then two swords slid into the orc’s back and came out in the front before they slid all the way to the orc’s shoulders, cutting him completely through just as the orc horn sounded and the lot of them crawled back into the mines.

Dwalin grabbed one of his nearby axes and got back to his knees in time to see the dwarf pull out his blades and the orc fall down in between him and his savior.

At first Dwalin could see nothing but familiar blue eyes staring at him and a face completely devoid of color if one didn’t include the orc blood, but then he noticed the lack of a beard underneath and the piece of cloth that must have slipped during battle resting just below the dam’s chin. And she was a dam. Those curves were unique and once he looked for it, Dwalin could see traces of the gold hair underneath the grime and red ribbons slipped in the braids. What he didn’t expect was the wide smile on the dam’s face, the mischievous look in her eyes and the hand she offered to get him back on his feet.

Dwalin glanced around quickly enough that most people would have missed it, to make sure none of his family was watching, before he allowed the dam to help him up.

“My, you’re a tall one,” she whispered in a surprisingly soft voice, when her smile slipped and Dwalin’s eyes widened.

The hum of the battle and the cry of the wounded fell away and Dwalin was only aware of two distinctive beats, rushing over each other, butting heads and playfully moving from each other before the calm where they slowed and stuttered and then there was only One.

The dam grinned again, her fingers tightening on Dwalin’s arm before she took hold of the other one too and in one powerful, unexpected move, she pulled Dwalin closer and slammed her forehead against his.

It was the surprise, Dwalin would tell it later, she’d caught him by surprise, and she was a strong dam, but none of the explanations would quite erase the fact that Dwalin slid from her grip and fell down on the ground, staring at her with wide eyes and a through a slight daze.

The dam grinned as wider than even Killi could, then said, “Oh, you’ll do. Not many would have stayed conscious.”

“What?” Dwalin asked stupidly, something he would berate himself for in many days to come.

“What is your name dwarf?” She asked with enough authority Dwalin didn’t even hesitate to answer.

“Dwalin son of Fundin.” He said, kind of loving the way her armor fit her and the way her eyes looked as she took in the measure of him, seemingly appreciating what she saw.

“Well, Dwalin son of Fundin, this is not yet our time, but you keep yourself safe, you hear? I’ll be expecting you to come find me once this war is over and if you make me come get you, you’ll regret it.” She put one of her fists one her hip and pushed out the other one, making for one fine figure as she already bossed him around.

Dwalin simply nodded, his jaw slack and then she was off, her swords at ready and running toward the retreating orcs.

“Dwalin, Dwalin, are you alright?” Balin’s voice intruded somewhere from the side.

“What?” Dwalin asked stupidly again.

“Are you alright, nadad? That was a pretty hard blow.” Balin pulled him up to his feet.

“Of course I’m alright.” Dwalin shook off the shock, still unsure what had just happened.

“She knocked you right off your feet and I’ve never seen that happen, Dwalin.” Balin said calmly, his hands roaming over Dwalin’s body, looking for injuries.

“Me either brother.” Dwalin murmured as he let his brother take him back to their tents.

Dwalin kept replaying it in his head as they struggled through the fallen dwarves and orcs, but even after a good hour and when they were back to safety, he still had no idea what had happened.

“Dwalin!” Thorin yelled as he saw him, “I heard our masked dam knocked you right off your feet.” He laughed as if tickled and Dwalin couldn’t help it but scowl at him.

“You don’t know what you speak of.” Dwalin crossed his arms over his chest and looked away from his king.

“’This true. First she saved his life, then helped him back to his feet and then slammed her forehead right against his thick skull and she was the one left standing.” Balin shared with enthusiasm the story certainly didn’t deserve.

Now Dis and Villi were laughing as well and Dwalin hated the lot of them.

“What was she like, Mister Dwalin?” Filli ran right up to him and gripped at his sleeve, staring at him with those big eyes of his.

“Good warrior.” Dwalin grumbled, unable to refuse the dwarfling.

That, of course, just sent the others into another bout of laughter.

“Is she pretty like ‘amad?” Killi struggled to get to them, and Dwalin wondered how the little one even knew what pretty was. He was barely three years old. What were they teaching them?

Villi dropped down to his knees, holding his belly and Dwalin wanted to kick him, but instead of fueling their amusement, Dwalin just said, “She’s my One.”

The laughter stooped, in fact everything stopped and all the dwarves around stared at him.

“Come, let’s take this to the tent.” Thorin said and motioned for all of them to move inside.

“Now tell us, brother, what do you mean she’s your One?” Balin went first as they all settled in the chairs around the table. The wood had already taken in the stains of all the orc blood they’d brought on their armor after all these years and no amount of cleaning would take it out. The chairs were no better.

Dwallin rubbed at his Mohawk before settling down, “I mean just that. I never knew it could be so…what’s the word… consuming.” Dwalin thought about it before nodding, “That fits. It was consuming and I swear our heartbeats just aligned and became One. The craziest thing I’ve ever experienced.”

“But why didn’t she stay?” Villi asked, looking confused. Despite the war he was the least stressed of them all. He took everything in stride and often did his best to make a joke out of it.

Dwalin looked at them, “She said, and this is a quote, mind you. She said, ‘Well, Dwalin son of Fundin, this is not yet our time, but you keep yourself safe, you hear? I’ll be expecting you to come find me once this war is over and if you make me come get you, you’ll regret it.’ and I don’t think she meant it as a lark either.”

Villi whistled and Dis slapped him on the back of his head.

Thorin looked considering and eventually he put those brooding thoughts into words, “She’s tough, I’ll grant you that and I believe she could be good for you. What is she like? All we know are wives tales about her fights. As far as I can tell she’s never spoken to anyone else here.”

“Pretty.” Dwalin grinned and looked at little Killi who grinned back. “Damn straight she’s tough. She actually ran after the orcs as they retreated. She’s all dam. I’ve never seen such curves on anyone else before and she’s curvy.”

“Dwalin.” Dis said then pointedly looked at Filli and Killi who were just soaking it all up.

He smirked somewhat sheepishly before continuing, “She has Thorin’s eyes and no beard. Her wrap had slipped but there was so much orc blood on her I couldn’t see much else. Good armor, looking light and great craft when it comes to weapons. I’ve never seen such designs but they are dwarfish. No one makes blades like we do.”

“She must be a Durin then, but she doesn’t fit anywhere.” Balin murmured as he rubbed at his beard.

“Dwalin will ask when he goes to her.” Thorin smirked, “Although I don’t know how you plan on doing that. I assume you would have told us her name by now if you were aware of it.”

Dwalin’s jaw dropped. It hadn’t even occurred to him to ask. He could feel himself blushing and the others laughing at his predicament didn’t help any. He’d met his One and hadn’t even thought to ask for her name. Dwalin let his head thump on the table in front of him. She would either better him or drive him insane, there was nothing else to it.

****

The next time Dwalin caught sight of her was unexpected. She was far enough from their tents on a nearby hill and arguing with Tharkûn of all creatures. And if her hands were anything to go by and the frown on the Tharkûn’s face, it was wasn’t a pleasant disagreement.  
It took a while, her hair now unbound and falling down her back, before she calmed and just crossed her arms under her chest, pushing out those plump breasts forward. Dwalin changed his stance slightly, his trousers becoming tight. He could see her armor better, and it was inlayed with red, reminding him of his last king. All her weapons were on her and she suddenly turned and brought two packs off a pony Dwalin didn’t see at first.

She said something else to the Tharkûn, then surprisingly turned in Dwalin’s direction. She seemed to be looking for something and when her gaze fell on Dwalin her smile became blinding. Dwalin was a bit far but he could have sworn she’d winked at him. Slowly, as if making sure he was paying attention, she untied something off her knife sheath and tied it on a nearby bush. She kissed her fingertips and pointed her hand in his direction when out of nowhere one of the Great Eagles landed behind her.

Dwalin was already reaching for his axes when she grinned at him then pulled her packs with her and climbed on the Eagle’s back. Before Dwalin knew what hit him, the Eagle was soaring above them and once he looked toward her pony, both it and Tharkûn were gone.

He walked toward the bush she’d been standing next to and without even looking properly found a red ribbon tied to it. Dwalin studied it for a long time, lifting it to his nose where he could still catch her sweet scent cut with the scent of leather, before he scowled. He would be damned if he braided it in his hair. Instead, Dwaling tied the ribbon around his wrist and for many months after he could be seen absentmindedly caressing it, his thoughts far away from the battlefield.


	11. Chapter 11

As Billa passed Bree there had been a nagging feeling in her chest pulling her in a specific direction. At first she wasn’t quite sure what direction that was, but without any place better to go to, she followed it. The last place she expected it to lead her was Khazad-dûm, but as she caught up with the caravan leading there she saw no reason to hurry ahead of them.

The stares from the Ered Luin didn’t seem to be limited to the mountain, and Billa quickly realized she would need to hide her face. A simple wrap around the lower part of her face seemed to do the trick, and as she braided her hair into one long rope, she pulled up a hood and kept it on for the most of the journey. It turned out that as long as she was out of sight, few dwarves paid little attention to her and she was able to listen and observe as much as she wanted.

As the caravan slipped down to the valley, Billa stayed up high, looking at all the tents that had been her family’s home for as long as she’d been alive and far ahead of them stretched the mountain with a large black painted patch of land. It was both beautiful as well as tragic and Billa tore her gaze away from the sight.

She settled far away from the rest of the dwarves, but close enough to hear the horns each time a battle commenced and in a matter of weeks she developed a routine. She found the fight suited her and it had the added benefit of pushing the hurt deep down where she no longer had to face it. So Billa fought and killed and there was no better practice than cutting down orcs while occasionally saving lives. It had been the right choice for her.

The first time she saw Thorin, Billa almost took a knife in her eye. He was magnificent, swinging his sword and fending off attacks. She wished he was the one to teach her how to fight, to show her all the moves he was so skilled in. She wished he had been there to hug her when her mum had died or that she had been here with him when their adad left them.

But the fight moved on and they got separated again and the next time it was already a bit easier and Billa could take it with a smile, protect him playfully but always standing out of reach.

She never caught sight of Frerin and even Dis was a bit harder to spot since she didn’t seem to be out in battle all that often, but when she was orcs moved away and her blows carried weight a lot of dwarves lacked. Billa was very proud of her sister and wished he’d had a chance to grow up with her, for someone to teach her all the proper ways of the dwarves, to show her how to braid her hair or take care of her beard.

Billa missed her beard, but while she’d cut it out of grief, she knew she wouldn’t let it grow until she felt whole again.

That moment came after she’d been on the battlefield for over a year. She had an urge to move to a specific part of the valley and the feeling persisted until she allowed herself the distraction and found the reason why.

He was an animal in dwarf skin. Wild and unpredictable, so large and distinctive and Billa could barely take her eyes off him. She knew he was her One before she even reached him and as she touched him she finally understood her mother and every single choice she’d made.

Dwalin son of Fundin stayed in Billa’s thoughts for a long time after she left the battle that day. The Mohawk made him all the more special, unique and his savage expression had heat pooling in her belly. Yes, Dwalin was the right dwarf for her and now she only had to be patient enough and wait him out, or rather wait out the war. She sincerely hoped it would be done soon.

A week later Gandalf found her, and he was far from happy.

“Billa Bagging daughter of Belladonna Took, what in Middle Earth were you thinking?” Gandalf shouted and while Billa cringed, she held her ground.

“I was thinking that I had nothing left in the Shire and my feet were carrying me elsewhere.” Billa lifted up her head as she spoke.

“What do you mean nothing left? What about Bella and Bungo, what about all the Tooks?” Gandalf asked.

For a moment Billa could do nothing but stare at him. Gandalf didn’t know. Then her shoulders slumped and she whispered, “Bella is gone, Gandalf. Adad died and she followed. Just a few months later Bungo was gone too.”

Gandalf seemed to age in front of her eyes and the only thing that held him upright was his staff.

“I’ve heard that Thrain had died, but it was just information and I didn’t connect one thing with the other. I am so very sorry, Billa.” Gandalf said softly.

“Nothing to be sorry for, Gandalf. You don’t control when someone is born or taken from us.” Billa said with a small smile.

“But why here, Billa?” Gandalf asked.

“Where else would I go? Something called me here, but it was only when I came that I realized my family was here. There’s not another place I would like to be.” Billa grinned at him, genuinely happy. She respected her mother’s wishes, keeping the secret from her siblings, but it didn’t mean a part of her wasn’t hurt for it. Still, she was more settled now than she’d been since she’d left the Shire.

“I need you to go back, Billa.” Gandalf said.

“No.” Billa crossed her arms beneath her chest.

“I felt the urge to come to Moria without knowing why. It’s the way of the wizard and despite not passing through here for years, this time I did. Now I see why, and you need to go back.” Gandalf persisted.

“There is nothing for me in the Shire but memories. I want to stay here.” Billa said stubbornly.

“Billa Baggins, when a wizard tells you to do something you are better to listen instead of falling back to your hardheaded dwarven roots. Trust me and go to the Shire. The world will change again and you are needed there.” Gandalf rationalized and Billa could do little but sigh and obey.

She was happy she’d managed to see Dwalin one last time before she climbed on the Great Eagle and soared toward the Shire.

****

The Eagle left her on the outskirts of the Shire and it took some walking but as she found herself among the rolling hills of the Shire, she could feel the pebbles singing even through her boots. They were welcoming her home and after the screams of Khazad-dûm the sound was as pretty as the first day of spring.

By the time she reached the Tooks, the word that she was back was all around the Shire and many a hobbit stood in their gardens or peeked through their windows as she passed.

There was gossip, but when wasn’t there some scorn directed at her? No, she didn’t mind and politely nodded at everyone she saw. She was apparently destined to live in the Sire for now and once her little Took cousins ran down the hill to greet her, she couldn’t resist smiling.

She picked up one after the other, lifting them high and spinning them around and so it was that she arrived home in the company of children’s laughter and her aunts and uncles rushing to meet her.

“Billa!” Screams of her name rang all around and she hugged as many of them as she could before they led her into the smial and on the way into the kitchen unstrapped all the weapons and armor off her.

She was fed and informed about all the current gossip circling in the Shire before she met with her grandpapa.

“I must say, I expected to not see you for a very long time, Billa.” The Old Took said.

“And I expected to be gone just as long, but Gandalf interfered and here I am. He said the world is changing again and I’m needed here.” Billa confessed feeling just a bit guilty for not having come back home on her own.

“That’s quite alright my child. Well, if Gandalf is involved we’ll need to prepare for his meddling, but you must know you’ll always have our support, no matter in which direction your life takes you.” Her grandpapa said and Billa couldn’t contain her grin. It was good to be home.

“Bag End is still standing and all the businesses are as successful as ever. You might want to expand your herb supplies because there was a rise in the demand and Hamfast didn’t want to grow anything else in your back fields without your explicit permission. Everything else is as it should be.”

“Thank you, grandpapa. It’s good to see all of you and feel welcome after the past year.” Billa quirked her lips, unsure how to even explain the amount of her gratitude.

“Go take care of Bag End my child. Knowing our wizard you won’t have all that much time.” The Old Took pulled Billa into a hug and pushed her out the door.

So Billa aired Bag End and took care of all her business. She put on a dress and hung all her weapons except the twin swords into her small armory which she locked. The swords hung next to her door above her boots and she hoped she would never have to use them in the Shire, but wanted to be prepared.

Then she proceeded to spend weeks reestablishing her relations through the Shire, going on lunches and inviting hobbits to tea or supper and as quickly as is only possible in the Sire, her life got back to normal and she was back to being the old but still extremely strange Billa.

****

“I don’t know who you think you are, wizard, but the answer is absolutely not!” Thorin yelled standing on his feet and facing Gandalf.

“A dwarfling was killed, Thorin. He might as well have been little Kili and you don’t have any heirs to spare.” Gandalf said and Thorin only got redder in his face.

They had been at it for hours already, back and forth without a solution in sight. All of them were sitting around the table in the main tent and the mood was somber. Two days ago the orcs breached their defenses and some of them reached the tents killing not only a dam but also her child. It had been a heavy blow to all of them, and now, the wizard came with an idea of taking away their children to safety until the war was over.

“And where would you take them, Gandalf?” Balin asked, “Most of us don’t have any friends left in Ered Luin and no one wants their child raised in that kind of insecurity.”

“No. I won’t take them to Ered Luin. They would stay with a friend of mine. They’ll have plenty of friends, food and sunshine and what’s more important, they won’t see one orc while they’re there.” Gandalf settled somewhat, leaning back in his chair.

“That’s not an answer.” Thorin scowled. “Who is this friend of yours? If it’s an elf I don’t know why you’re even asking.”

“No, it’s not an elf. It’s a dam and she will take care of the children as if they were her own.” Gandalf said wit surety.

Dwalin just looked at him, not liking the satisfied expression on the wizards face, but he did have a point. The battle was no place for children and even though he’d been battle ready when he first came to the valley, he still felt it had been too early and he would forever be scarred for it. The little ones like Kili and Fili had never seen anything but the tent and the shadow of a doomed mountain.

A dam who didn’t live in the Blue Mountains but the wizard trusted her with a generation of dwarf children. That didn’t leave many options. Dwalin narrowed his eyes and said, “Is it the masked dam?”

Gandalf’s eyes widened for a moment, but then he smiled softly and nodded.

They rest of the dwarves in the tent relaxed. They might not have known her, but she had fought with them and she was Dwalin’s One. A certain amount of trust came from that.

“No one will take your children from you, my dwarves. We’ll just give them a temporary home away from all the killing. You are all aware that this is not a place for children.” Gandalf tried again.

“And what happens if some of the dwarves die? What will become of their children?” Dis spoke for the first time since the meeting had started.

“The dam, as you know her, will never turn out a child, she will care for them and love them as her own. I’m willing to stake my life on that.” Gandalf said seriously.

“Take them. But if anything happens to my sons, wizard, I will hunt you to Mordor if need be and you will suffer for it.” Dis said surprising everyone in the tent. Thorin looked at her with his jaw slack and Vili turned toward her in disbelief. Even Balin couldn’t quite trust his hearing.

“Dis…” Thorin whispered.

Dis looked at him. “The wizard is right. My sons have neither seen mountain halls nor smelled fresh air. All they know is the orcs and that is no way to live. They could die tomorrow and I would never forgive myself. We are fighting this war for our children, for a home. Or least we were once upon a time, but what use there is from it when all our children will ever see and feel is death?”

Thorin seemed to collapse into himself and fastened his gaze to the table.

“How many can you take?” Balin, always the practical, asked.

“I will take whoever you wish to send.” Gandalf said calmly.

“We will have to ask, because not everyone will be willing to send their sons out of sight. I know of ten and I would send them right away.” Balin said.

“So few.” Gandalf said surprised.

“Even in peaceful times children don’t come to us easily. We’ve lost one little lad already and I fear for the rest of them.” Balin crossed his fingers and leaned on the table.

“I can guarantee there won’t be ten of them when you leave.” Dwalin said.

“It doesn’t matter. However many we can save it will be a blessing, but we need to end this war soon.” Dis stood and left the tent.

“Get everything ready, and any letters you wish to include for the dam, I know she would appreciate all the help you can offer. We’ll be leaving tomorrow. Before lunch.” Gandalf said and followed in Dis’ footsteps.


	12. Chapter 12

On that particular day Billa simply couldn’t settle down. The pebbles were whispering and her skin tingled but not even all the stone under the Shire hills knew exactly what was coming. The rain drizzled during the whole day and by the afternoon tea everything in the Shire was wet.

Billa couldn’t shake the feeling of something unexpected coming and so she took it upon herself to cook all her mother’s favorite dishes just in case someone did indeed come by. From various meats and vegetable dishes to sweets of all kinds, Billa cooked up a storm and was quite exhausted by the time she was done.

The sight of her table filled with food brought her joy and returned her into a time when her mother used to do the same thing and when they laughed together covered in flour. Her urge satisfied, Billa untied her apron and went to change clothes. It shouldn’t be too difficult to find a few hobbits willing to eat an extra supper in case none of her expectant feelings came to fruition.

She cleaned her face and looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair was quite long these days, reaching past her waist even braided and she knew she would have to trim it sometime soon. Her beard had come out even fuller than it had been before. The same shade as her hair, it was now long enough to comb but not quite as long that she was able to braid it. She looked happy, even alone in her smial, she was satisfied and while she missed her family and her heart tugged for Dwalin, she was ready to wait for as long as needed to see them again.

Just as she was about to turn and head back to the kitchen, the stone deep beneath the earth shuddered and called for her, sharing news of visitors and magic and before Billa could hear the rest of it she rushed to her door and ran out of Bag End. She looked around, searching for those visitors, struggling to see through the stretching darkness before she heard an Eagle and turned around.

On top of Bag End there stood convocation of Eagles and around them what appeared to be children and a wizard.

“Gandalf!” Billa shouted, “You get out of this rain right this instant and come here where it’s warm.”

Gandalf nodded with a smile and Billa called out again even as she saw the children huddle together, “Can I get anything for the Eagles?”

“No, my dear, we are in a hurry and will be leaving soon, as soon as you meet someone.” Gandalf said joyfully, and all the children looked at him in what appeared to be panic.

Paying no attention to their expressions and words, or so it seemed, Gandalf ushered the children down the slippery slope of grass until they were all inside her smial.

Billa barely got a chance to look at them before Gandalf was taking out a handful of tied letters and thrust them in her hands saying, “They are in your care now, Billa. Watch them as if they were your own. I must leave, I’m afraid, the Eagles are getting impatient,” and before she could utter one word he was gone .

Billa turned toward her guests, a group of dwarf children who seemed terrified and were soaked to the bone.

“Right!” She said and clapped her hands when one of the children startled at the sound and burst into tears.

One of the older ones pulled the crying child into his arms and whispered words so softly Billa was unable to hear them, so she decided to ignore the situation for now not to scare them further and continued, “I suppose you’re all hungry. Follow me and we’ll get you settled.” With that she turned and marched straight into her dining room and started setting out plates.

The children stopped at the entrance, their eyes wide and jaws slack.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Come, sit at the table and get to it. The food is not going to eat itself.” Billa said with a smile then left them to it and went to her bedroom to dig out whatever clothes she could find. The children had their little packs with them and the wizard had left some more things by the door, but all of that was probably soaked and she didn’t want to dig through their things without their permission.

While she was at it she put some water to warm for their baths then laid everything out before returning to the kitchen.

She considered getting out some of the cakes she’d made as well, but if dwarven children were anything like her Took cousins, sweets at night would just give them energy to stay up all night. So instead she sat herself at the head of the table and started speaking to them. “I know all of you are frightened and probably confused by the appearance of my home, but I will never hurt you. For some reason Gandalf thought you needed to be here with me and that means I will do my best to keep you safe, warm, fed and happy. Do you understand?”

All of them watched her with their wide little eyes and only the two older ones actually nodded, but Billa was happy with whatever she could get. “Right. Now you all need to have a bath and change your clothes because you’re completely wet and we don’t want you to get a cold.”

The reaction to that wasn’t quite as she imagined it would be. If they had been frightened before now they were absolutely terrified. She needed to calm the situation as quickly as she could.

“Now don’t be scared. You’re dwarves and dwarves never get scared. Isn’t that right?” She asked with faked awe. If she could trust anything it was that dwarves taught their children to be proud from the moment they could walk. They probably knew all kinds of gems and precious metals before they were able to hold a fork.

Just as she assumed, little chests puffed up and none of them looked as scared as before. The older one, with hair formed in three spikes on his head watched her with concealed amusement. He knew what she was doing but didn’t seem to mind. Then she took a closer look and realized he was actually a she. The young dam held herself as a dwarf would and dressed the same, but Billa knew how to recognize one of her own. She carefully looked over the others, and the small one, who had cried before was also a little dam. Reddish hair and freckles across her nose. She would be a real beauty when she grew up.

Billa got ahold of herself and continued her manipulations, “Good. Now that were are all in agreement, how about you tell me your names? One at a time all around the table, starting with you , young dam.” Billa nodded at the older dam with bright red hair.

While the dam couldn’t quite hide her surprise she got ahold of herself quickly and said, “Nori.”

That was followed by a quiet “Ori,” from the second dam and they must have been sisters.

“Gimli” One of the youngest two said, his voice soft and shy. He was followed by a loud and somewhat enthusiastic voice of the second youngest who reminded her of someone but she couldn’t quite figure out whom. “Kili” he said and the words were barely out of his mouth when they were followed by “Fili” from the child who as was golden as she was. Brothers again she guessed.

“Bombur,” the rounded child said. He was a little older with dark orange hair and the beginnings of a beard, and was obviously the brother of the last one and probably the oldest who introduced himself as “Bofur”

“Now once again please, one at a time. There are a lot of you and I want to remember your names right.” Billa said and once she was certain she would be able to call them by their names she introduced herself, “Billa Baggins, at your service.”

Then Kili blurted out, “But you’re a dam.”

Billa smiled brightly at him, “Well, I do have a dwarven name as well, but if I share it, you have to promise to never tell anyone until I give you permission to do so. Do you promise?”

Kili and the rest of them nodded their head and even the older ones looked curious.

“Very well then. I am also Nis daughter of Thráin, son of Thrór, named for my big sister Dis.” Billa said proudly and all of the children were left speechless, well, except Kili. Billa doubted he knew how to stay quiet.

“Dis is our mum!” He yelled and Billa realized he looked a lot like Thorin. She never knew her sister had children and if she had felt protective of her little guests before, now she was contemplating unlocking her armory and carrying more than her swords around. Yes, she would definitely do that.

“And she is my sister,” Billa smiled at him before saying “which makes me your irak’amad. But all of you can just call me Billa.”

Taking advantage of the situation while they were all still impressed, Billa got up and said, “Come, it’s time to take your baths.”

They were reluctant, but as the older children followed so did the younger ones. The bath had three tubs and all of them could be separated by a privacy screen if need be. While the children were still occupied gazing around, Billa quickly tapped Nori’s shoulder and leaned closer, “Can you wash yourself and your sister?”

Nori nodded.

“Good, but if you need any help don’t hesitate to ask. I’ll leave to get you some of my clothes that will fit you better than the ones you have on now.

While Billa did catch the embarrassment on Nori’s face she didn’t let it show, instead she turned to Bofur and asked him the same thing about him and Bombur. After receiving a positive answer, she separated the tubs with the screens then said, “Fili, Kili and Gimli, I need to leave for a few moments, but I want you to take off your clothes right there by the middle tub by the time I get back. Don’t get into the water until I come back, alright?”

All three nodded their little heads and started undressing.

Billa rushed to her bedroom and rummaged through her closet, luckily finding some of her dresses from when she was a child and while the smaller ones would fit Ori, the ones she had for Nori would probably be a bit too wide. But it was certainly better than trousers and dwarf shirts on such pretty dams.

She gave the clothes to Nori as she got back, then turned her attention to the three dwarflings. They were butt naked and hopping from one foot to the other, chatting among themselves.

She reached for Kili first and lifted him into the tub where he panicked for a moment until she said, “I’ve got you, you won’t fall in.” Once he calmed enough she said, “Now grip the edge of the tub and take care not to slip on your butt.” She winked at him making him giggle.

“Now you Fili,” she did the same thing, placing him in the middle of the tub with words, “You are older than the two of them, so you have to watch them, alright?”

Fili nodded wide-eyed and she took the chance to put Gimli in with them.

Billa had them use soap and while their body hair wasn’t yet visible, the pale fluff still covered their bodies and they soaped themselves until they were completely white. She used the distraction to wash their short hair, loving how smooth it was under her fingers and once they were done she dried them up one at a time before the whole pack went to sit by the fire.

Fili, Kili and Gimli fell asleep as she combed their hair and Ori was cuddled against her sister when Billa picked her up then motioned for Nori, Bofur and Bombur to follow her. She led them to two rooms, one for Bofur and Bombur to share and the other for Nori and Ori where she tucked Ori into bed.

“I’ll put the little ones in this room here, so you can find them if you get frightened and mine is that one,” Billa pointed at the room a little ways off and on the opposite side of the hallway to theirs.

Nori and Bofur nodded and closed the door, while Billa took care of the three little dwarflings, tucking them all into one bed.

She went to sleep early that night, after cleaning up after the children, washing their clothes and hanging it to dry, and wondered how one’s life could change so much from one minute to the next. Billa already knew she would love those dwarflings, and whatever challenges came to pass, she would tackle them for their safety.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> irak'amad - aunt
> 
> If anyone wants to know the ages of the dwarves, let me know and I'll write it up for the next chapter.  
> It's now 1 am and I apologize for any mistakes. I'm not at my best at this hour and probably more slipped by me than usual.


	13. Chapter 13

Billa rose early, so many plans already swimming in her head. She got dressed then went straight to the kitchen, preparing enough food to feed all of her children. That done she peeked into their rooms, smiling at the sight of Ori and Nori hugging under the covers and Bofur and Bombur sleeping on opposite ends of the bed, the quilt so tightly stretched between them another grown dwarf could have slipped in that bed without even touching the cover or the two children.

But as she opened the door to the little dwarflings’ room she had to stifle a chuckle. Fili was in the middle, his golden hair spread on the pillow almost like a halo, while the cover was folded over him twice. On one side Kili had flipped it over, one hand across his brother and his little leg stretched enough to touch Gimli, while Gimli lay half on top of Fili and completely on the covers, holding at Kili’s sleeve tightly while his feet hung off the bed. They were quite adorable.

Billa closed the door quietly and retreated to the dining room, taking out the letters Gandalf had given to her.

The first one was from the dwarf called Dori.

_Many of us had heard of you or seen you fight, Masked dam, and many of us owe you our lives. However, despite the trust given to you on the battlefield, I was reluctant to trust you with the care of my lovely sisters. At the word of Gandalf and our King, I have taken that leap of faith and entrusted you with the safety and happiness of Ori and Nori. Please don’t abuse my trust and care for them as if they were your own._

_Ori is a gentle child, shy but very smart. We have sheltered her as much as possible, but living an hour away from war leaves a mark. She is well read already, preferring the comfort of books instead of company and will often find a hidden corner to escape to. Be careful with her and if you can help her to blossom as the flower that she is to me._

_Nori is somewhat insecure, but crafty and resourceful. She has grown up surrounded by dwarves and while I am nearing my coming of age, I had never had much experience with dams. I am afraid Nori’s outlook on life reflects that. Her time with our mother had been cut short and there had never been another dam to take her place. If you can, show her that a dam is so much more than just a warrior and don’t allow her to hide behind the mask she’d already so skillfully built for herself. Oh, and be mindful of your spoons. I don’t know where she’d learned that craft but she is quite skilled and I’m fearful for her future._

Billa was both sad as well as excited. Just reading their brother’s letter, Billa was already half in love with Nori and Ori and couldn’t wait to get to know them better.

The next letter belonged to Bifur.

_If Bofur or Bombur come to harm I will kill you, dam or not._

Well, that was unexpected but Billa certainly appreciated the sentiment.

_Bofur is a joker and can pull out a smile from the gruffest dwarf. He has grown up too fast like all of us have so I’ve sent him your way, to spare him the sight of orcs every bleeding day._

_Bombur is quiet and withdrawn. He’s self-conscious of his size and doesn’t quite know how to speak with others. A lot of things make him uncomfortable and I have never managed to pull him out of his shell. I have shamed the memory of their father in that. I trust he will be alright under a dam’s hand. But for the love of Mahal, keep him away from any more pies. He indulges and they hardly help him any._

That one had Billa chuckling for a long time and when she finally calmed down she had to wipe the tears out of her eyes. She listened for the sounds from any of the rooms and when none came, she opened another letter, this time from King Thorin.

_Masked dam. I have been forced by the Tharkûn to entrust you with the children of my kingdom. If anything should happen to them while in your care, know that you will be tried as a betrayer, your hair will be cut and you will be marked for all dwarves to see your shame. You will never again be welcome in a dwarven kingdom._

_You have with you my nephews and heirs, the very reason why we are still out here killing orcs and if I were to lose them, no race of Middle Earth will stop me from finding you and ridding you of your miserable life._

Billa was quite appalled after reading those words, especially because it contained nothing else except Thorin’s signature in all its flourish and importance. While she understood the worry behind it, she had to admit to herself that her brother was in fact an ass. Billa shook her head and looked up just in time to catch sight of Nori and Ori.

She picked up her letters and tucked them into a hidden pocket in her skirt before calling for the dams, “Come, Ori, Nori. Sit and eat.”

They approached reluctantly, both of them smoothing out their dresses, obviously unused to wearing them. While Billa had given them robes after the bath the previous night, now they probably felt exposed without trousers and every one of their awkward steps showed it.

“I know dresses are quite different from what you’re used to, but you are both very beautiful and we as dams should always show other dwarves that we are just as pretty as we are dangerous.” Billa said with a smile while both Ori and Nori ducked their heads blushing.

“Now, I’m not lying to you. Even last night when you were drenched from the rain and scared out of your wits, I thought you beautiful and once you become battle ready I know you will just break hearts.” Billa pushed and while Nori kept her head down, Ori peeked shyly behind her messy hair and said, “My feet are naked.”

Billa burst out laughing but got ahold of herself quickly as not to offend the little dam, “That is because you are in a hobbit home, and we hobbits don’t wear shoes.”

Both of their jaws dropped.

Billa laughed again, “I’m not just a dam, I am also half hobbit and while I don’t have hobbit feet, I have found that walking without shoes is rather comfortable and helps with the stone sense. I will show you when the others are up and we sort out some things. Just trust me for now, yes?”

Ori and Nori nodded then started on their breakfast. They were both messy that morning, their braids loose and hair knotted in places. She would sort that out as soon as they were fed.

“We will have to get you some new clothes as quickly as we can but I won’t be able to take all of you with me. Do you think Bofur would mind if you and him stayed with the little ones and I took just Bombur and Ori with me?” Billa asked Nori after she finished taking a sip of freshly made fruit juice.

“I don’t mind watching the dwarves. But I don’t think Ori and Bombur will want to leave.” Nori looked at Ori who was already moving closer to her sister.

“Nonsense. Ori knows she can trust me, besides, I can’t very well pick out her writing and drawing materials without her, can I?” Billa said as if she hadn’t a single doubt about Ori wanting to come with her.

True enough, with the words writing and drawing, Ori was back to sitting straight, eyes wide with enthusiasm, while Nori relaxed with an easy smirk. Billa would have to watch out for Nori. The dam was too smart for her own good.

Bofur and Bombur chose that moment to enter the room. Their clothes was wide as well. Some had belonged to her papa and some of it were her old shirts. They would all need a better wardrobe and Billa was determined to find a tailor who would make their clothes more dwarf like. She thought it important that they keep some of their customs when they would already be surrounded by hobbits and their ways.

“Come eat you two.” Billa motioned with her hand at them, calling them to the table.

“Much appreciated,” Bofur tilted his head with a smile, reaching up as if he would touch the edge of a hat.

They both sat and dug in, Bombur especially focused on his plate and Billa asked the same question of Bofur, “Would you mind watching the dwarflings with Nori while Ori, Bombur and I go to the market to buy some things for you lot?”

Bombur stopped eating right away and paled, but Bofur didn’t seem to notice, he just smiled wider and said, “Think nothing of it. Nori and I will keep those trouble makers in line. Won’t we Nori?” He winked at her and completely unexpected, Nori crossed her arms over her chest and sunk lower in her seat. The dress was really bothering her and that just wouldn’t do. Billa was determined to make the dam comfortable in her own skin, if it was the last thing she would do.

Bombur had meanwhile stopped eating, still disturbingly pale and Billa had to set him at ease, “Don’t you want to cook with me for lunch, Bombur? However will I pick everything I need on my own? And I will certainly need someone to help me carry all the goodies. Aren’t you the right dwarf for me? You look rather strong and capable, why I wouldn’t even think of picking someone else.” Billa nodded for good measure, and just like a typical dwarf, Bombur puffed up his chest, his face painted with a blush. Yes, Billa was turning out to be very good with dwarflings.


	14. Chapter 14

Fili and Kili might have entered the room shyly, holding each other’s hand with Gimli hiding behind them, but as Billa invited them to the table and prompted them to eat, every notion of modesty flew out the window and they were soon just as loud and care-free as she’d expected them to be.

Billa waited until most of the food was gone before she crossed her fingers beneath her chin and leaned her elbows on the table, “Now, I trust it will not be too much of a chore for you five to unpack your bags in your rooms, clear the table and wash the dishes while Ori, Bombur and I are at the market?”

“Fili, Kili and Gimli looked at her with their mouths open and half-chewed food falling on their plates.  
“Now, where are your manners, little dwarves? Chew first,” She scowled at them, “Honestly, no one wants to see the back of your throat.”

Kili quickly swallowed before saying in a high pitch, “But we don’t clean the dishes.”

“Nonsense,” Billa dismissed him, “all children have to do chores, why how ever will you go on an adventure someday if you don’t know how to wash a plate after yourself? Why, you won’t have to worry about any orcs, the flies trailing after your stinking utensils will just do you in.”

Both Kili and Fili paled while Gimli blushed and slid down in his chair.

“What other chores will we do?” Ori asked timidly.

“Oh nothing too bad. You’ll help me with the cleaning, washing up. I’ll teach you how to cook and mend your clothes. Little bits and pieces like that. I can’t have you going out to battle without the means of supporting yourselves, now can I? But enough of that. Let’s leave the dishes here for you take care of later and we’ll fix our hair now.” Billa stood up brightly and marched her way to the sitting room, picking up a couple of low benches on her way there.

“Come, come, don’t be shy.” Billa called as she climbed all the way to the back of her couch and sat on the edge of the back rest. “Nori, come sit under me here, and you Ori sit on that little bench in front of your sister. Bofur, you can braid Bombur’s hair and the three of you watch what we’re doing so that you can copy it eventually. I won’t have you prancing around all messy and indecent.”

Like a little army of well-trained soldiers, the dwarflings obeyed and soon the only sounds to be heard in the sitting room where those of combs passing through strands of hair.

“I’ll do something different if I may, Nori.” Billa waited until Nori nodded before she started dividing her hair for three separate braids down her back. She wanted to show off the length of her hair and all those pretty freckles that were shadowed by her usual dramatic hair-style.

Once done, she bid her to turn around and passed her comb gently through her beard. She had enough hair on the sides to braid, but the hair on her chin wasn’t long enough to twist into a decent braid. So Billa braided close to Nori’s jaw until she had two braids which connected at the tip of her chin and were then long enough to put a bead on and give the impression of a much longer beard than Nori actually had. Billa like the femininity it gave her and when she saw Ori’s smile at her sister’s appearance, Billa knew she’d done good.

Billa touched the few braids in Ori’s short hair and gently touched the fuzz on her cheeks before saying, “We’ll let yours grow as long as your sister’s and give you some pretty braids to show off your beautiful face.”

Ori blushed crimson and ducked her head while Billa just chuckled then called to Bofur, “Come, young dwarf, let’s sort you out next.”  
With a large smile and “At your service, my dam.” Bofur took Nori’s place and squirmed until he got comfortable.

“You have really lovely hair. So different from your brother.” Billa commented as she combed it.

“Thank you, my lady. I exist to please.” Bofur said with a chuckle.

“Oh, don’t kid, you silly dwarf. You’ll have plenty of dams your age to flirt with once you’re old enough.” Billa tapped him on his shoulder then started braiding a slim braid on the side of his face before repeating the same on the other side.

“Nothing on the back of my head?” Bofur asked once she was done. He had very little hair on the edge of his jaw and nothing on his cheeks, but his mustache was already filling in and his chin had a thick tuff that would surely be long enough to braid in a few years.

“I’m not going to hide your gorgeous hair, Bofur, why all the young hobbit lasses would have my head if I were to deprive them of your charm and good looks.” Billa said with a straight face and while Bofur might have been confident and easy to kid, he still blushed under the compliment and was for once speechless.

“How about you little ones? Do you want any braids?” Billa asked the wild trio.

All three promptly shook their head, but Billa would have none of that, “Alright, no braids, but you still aren’t leaving here until you’re presentable. Come Fili.” She dropped down on the couch and patted the little bench Ori had sat on.

Fili seemed reluctant but once he looked around and there was no one to help him out of his predicament, he sat down with a deep sigh.

Billa just combed his hair gently then took a clasp Nori had offered and moved the short hair out of Fili’s eyes. She repeated it with the rest of them, Kili being a particular challenge with his fine and easily tangled hair, but she managed and then clapped her hands and had them line up in front of her.

She rummaged through her sowing box until she found her measuring tape, then took the numbers needed for their clothes, writing it all down before setting them loose on her smial.

“No need for shoes Ori, Bombur. Nothing in Hobbiton will hurt your feet.” Billa said with a smile as she gave them each an empty basket, picked up her coin bag and ushered them outside.

“Take care of our home, Nori, Bofur. I’m depending on you.” She yelled brightly before closing the green door.

Both Ori and Bombur easily walked down the road, their original reluctance fading once faced with the sight of Hobbiton in the light. Their eyes wide they gazed from one side to the other, lingering on hobbit holes and tidy gardens but moving closer to Billa each time on of the hobbits actually looked at them.

None were gossiping quite yet, their surprise more than enough to keep their curiosity at bay without putting their foot in. So Billa took the children to the market and gently steered them toward the tailor she preferred.

Tob Cotton sized them all up as they entered his shop and while some hobbits might have stuck their nose up in the clouds when faced with non-hobbits, Tob was of a different sort.

“Having visitors, Billa?” Tob asked coming around the counter to see the little dwarflings better.

“Not quite,” Billa hesitated but only for a moment, “These two darlings are my family, together with five others back at Bag End. They are in need of some clothes and I was hoping you weren’t too busy for such a large order.”

“My dear Billa, I am never too busy to dress children, now what will it be?” Tob said with a smile and Billa pulled out the measurements before picking out colors, styles and variety for each of her children.

By the time she finished even Tob was quite overwhelmed, but Billa just smiled, paid in advance and asked him to send the clothes to Bag End once they were done.

Like the wind she was out, both Ori and Bombur following quickly, before Bombur pulled at her dress gently once they headed toward another shop.

“Yes, Bombur?” Billa stopped right away and bent down, leaning on her knees to face him.

“We can’t repay you.” He said with embarrassment and ducked his head.

Billa was surprised for a moment then promptly pulled both of them into a hug, “Darling, you don’t ever have to repay me for anything I do for you. I already think of you as my own, and everything I buy you, cook for you or make for you, is yours without question.”

Bombur pushed his head against her neck and Billa felt tears wetting her skin but only hugged him harder for it. She moved slightly away and pulled out a handkerchief, wiping away his tears before saying, “If there is ever anything you need, all you have to do is ask and I’ll do my best to provide it for you. The same goes if you are ever hurt or someone tells you something to hurt you, you just come get me and I’ll sort everything out. Don’t you worry, my darlings, you have me now to take care of you.” Billa kissed both their foreheads and once she was satisfied that they were more or less composed, she led them to Crip Brown knowing he could order her some custom boots from Bree.

She led them from one shop to the next, stopping at various stalls and pulling Bombur out of his shyness to participate each time she haggled for spices, drink or food. Ori looked like she’d seen both Mahal and Yavanna once Billa led her to a small bookshop that sold writing supplies. However, that expression was nothing to the one of utter awe she sported once Billa filled a pretty ornate box with drawing charcoal, quills, pens, parchment, paper, ink and paints. Without ceremony Billa plopped it into Ori’s hands and moved on to the next item on her list.

By the time they were heading back to Bag End both children were happy even if tired and with their basket filled and their arms occupied they hardly paid attention to all the curious hobbits leaning over their fences. No, the little dwarflings were quite happy chatting quietly in between themselves and not one word was heard about their sore feet or the lack of shoes.


	15. Chapter 15

It was late that night when Billa finally managed to put all the children to bed, their eyes big and in the case of Bofur and Nori suspicious once they heard of all the things Billa had bought for them. She knew it was in their nature to be distrustful but she also realized only time could help her there. Eventually her little dwarflings would realize she only wanted what was best for them.

Tired and already planning for the next day, Billa pulled out the three remaining letters from her skirt. She knew it was best if she read them as soon as possible, so she pushed away her exhaustion and opened the first letter.

 

_I’m not going to call you a Masked dam or any such nonsense. While I know not your name, I’ve seen you fight enough times to know you are a warrior and a survivor or enviable skill. It was my decision which led to all our treasures ending up on your doorstep. While we respect the Tharkûn, his word alone would never have made us part from our children and such an act required a large amount of trust._

_You have my trust. I believe you will do right by my children. Handle their mischief with a stern hand and heal their hurt with a patient one. They are trouble and a whirlwind that is often unstoppable before the damage is already done, but my children love with a full heart and are more than capable of recognizing right from wrong._

_They will lean on one another and have been inseparable since Kili was born. I doubt much will change over the years and if I am right, the connection between them will only grow with time. With that in mind, take care to keep them together because I can hardly imagine a worse punishment for them than separation._

_They are my treasure, our heirs and the only reason neither I nor their father had fallen under this cursed mountain. Keep them safe, love them and tell them Amad will be with them soon._

 

The letter brought tears to Billa’s eyes, her heart aching for her sister and while there was little she could do to reassure Dis that her children were safe and very much loved, Billa swore to herself she would ease the separation as much as she could.

She wiped away her tears and carefully put aside her sister’s letter, knowing she would read it many times before tucking it away for safe keeping, then pulled out another letter. This one had no name on it and once she opened it, the handwriting was all but illegible.

 

_I am not a dwarf of many words and letters are my brother’s forte rather than mine, and yet, when the opportunity came to send you a few words, I lost the battle against myself and faced the challenge._

_Your choice to leave didn’t sit well with me, but I can admit now that perhaps you had reasons to listen to the Tharkûn and leave my side. Our dwarflings are important, more important than this blasted battle, and while I don’t envy you the trouble of their care, a part of me wishes I could be next to you and share it. ___

_Too stubborn to believe that finding your One could change even the hardest dwarf, I am now faced with the truth of my own weakness and this deep need I harbor for you. I don’t know you, but I miss you. The gold of your hair among the darkness of orcs and your laughter among the screams, something I still can’t quite believe I’ve been privileged to hear._

_I don’t know what the future holds for us, and when I will meet you again, but I will hold your words in my heart and keep hoping that our time will soon come._

__

__All exhaustion Billa had felt evaporated as she read the words from a dwarf she’d least expected. Letters might have been a forte of Dwalin’s brother, but her One wasn’t falling behind any as far as she was concerned. She could still see him as she closed her eyes, the Mohawk and the rage on his face as he killed. The strength of his swings and the power he radiated with his every step had her heart racing and her tummy heating. She missed him terribly, wanted him even more, but as if the pebbles were whispering, it was not yet their time. Billa had to wait and if something happened to Dwalin in that time, she knew she would follow and kick his butt for trying to leave her behind._ _

__Lost in her thoughts, Billa took her time before starting on the last letter. It belonged to Gloin, father of Gimli and while the words of praise held her attention during the whole first page, by the middle of the second of the four written, Billa’s head dropped and she sunk into her dreams._ _

__****_ _

__While the next couple of days were spent in the sun with many a talk and good food, by the third the dwarflings were beginning to get restless and Billa knew she had to make a schedule for them, a routine to follow that would both keep them occupied as well as exhaust them._ _

__So she stayed up for another long night and wrote until her fingers failed to comply and went to bed quite satisfied._ _

__Come morn, her enthusiasm was all but impossible to spoil and the little ones watched her with various doses of caution all through breakfast. It was only once the dishes were put away that Bofur dared to ask, “What does our fair dam have planned for today?”_ _

__“Oh stop it you charmer, you will give me a big head,” Billa laughed at him, leaning her hand on his forearm for a moment, “I have come up with things to do on days when we don’t need to go to the market.”_ _

__Promptly everyone except Bofur groaned. His happy smile slipped a little but was soon back in full._ _

__“Now don’t be like that. We need to make warriors out of you. You’re dwarves, not hobbits. You can’t just laze around all day and eat.” Billa raised her voice as she smoothed out her skirt._ _

__“We’ll fight?” Kili sat up right away, his voice loud._ _

__“Of course, but we’ll do other things as well.” Billa said._ _

__Nori looked at her suspiciously, “Like what?”_ _

__“Alright. First we’ll tackle any studying we have to do, and that will be from second breakfast to elevenses,” All of them groaned again, but Billa just ignored it, “Then we will spend some time outside, with the garden and play or whatever you wish to learn. After that we’ll prepare lunch and each day someone else will cook with me. You need to learn to take care of yourself if something were to happen.”_ _

__“Does hunting mean preparing food?” Fili interrupted her._ _

__“Yes it does, but we’ll do that only on the weekends and some of you are young yet to go. Probably just Nori and Bofur for now.” Billa thought to herself then nodded and continued, “After lunch you’ll rest or entertain yourselves while I do some of my work, and I’ll expect you to behave and do me proud, thank you very much,” she said with a strict voice then turned back to her list, “And after tea we’ll really get to work. We’ll train you in anything and everything.”_ _

__Ori hesitated, then said softly, “Do you mean weapons?”_ _

__“Of course darling. You’re all dwarves, I expect you to know how to fight.” Billa told her with a smile._ _

__“But do we have to?” Ori almost whined._ _

__“Ori, dear, you might be a dam, but dams are no less strong than any dwarf. Now some weapons might not suit you, and you might never go to battle, but if ever a situation comes where you are in need of defending yourself you will be capable of it.” Billa told her in all seriousness._ _

__“But why?” Ori refused to give up._ _

__“Alright. I’ll explain it this way. Imagine if one day you wished to see the libraries of Iron Hills, but it is far away to travel alone and you join a caravan heading in the same direction. Now that caravan has a long way to go, and you are attacked by orcs. Would you prefer to run, to depend on another dwarf or even a Man to defend you, or would you rather do your best and show those orcs that you might be a scholar but you are more than a match for them?” Billa raised one of her eyebrows and looked at her._ _

__Ori blushed so intensely, Billa was worried for a moment that she’d stopped breathing, when Ori jumped to her feet and shouted, “I’ll show them I can best them all and give them a taste of dwarves iron right up their…”_ _

__“Ori!” Billa yelled with a laugh, “Where did you learn that?”_ _

__Ori sat back down, her blush back in force, but she was young enough to glance in Fili and Kili’s direction and give them away._ _

__“Now boys, who could have possibly taught you such words?” Billa asked doing her best to remain serious._ _

__Both of them squirmed in their seat, looking at each other rather than at Billa, when Kili whispered, “We hide sometimes when our uncle and Amad speak with Balin and Dwalin.”_ _

__Fili kicked him under the table but Kili just frowned at him, and then Fili continued, “Dwalin yells a lot and we don’t understand everything he says but…” he trailed off, ducking his head._ _

__Billa smiled at them, “Now, you’re not in trouble, but I don’t want to hear that kind of language until you’re at least in your fifties,” All of them looked at her with wide eyes and something close to disbelief but Billa just smirked at them and continued, “and I’ll take care of Dwalin, don’t you worry about that.”_ _

__She assumed not all of them knew Dwalin, but both Kili and Fili looked at her with absolute fear while Gimli, Nori and Bofur were close behind._ _

__Billa just smiled, figuring some things were best left as a surprise. They had plenty to do until they saw their parents again, or Dwalin. It was sad, but life rarely gave you just flowers, that was one thing Billa knew quite well._ _


	16. Chapter 16

Cutting through orcs as if there was no tomorrow, Dwalin forgot all about being tired or so dirty he could hardly distinguish his own scent from that of orc blood. But he pressed on determined, seeing the door to Khazad-dûm gaping open and not nearly enough orcs around to stop him reaching it.

Dwalin rushed at them, killing without pause or looking back. Here was their chance at last, that sliver of possible advantage and he was ready to die only to give his kin that much needed opportunity. Suddenly an orc horn blew and all those in front of him ran back toward the gates as if their heels were on fire. For the first time in many hours, Dwalin took more notion of his surroundings, well aware of the possibility of dying at the hand of a retreating orc. It would be too easy to strike him from behind and no matter how fight savvy or blood thirsty he might be, Dwalin wasn’t quite ready to leave for the Mahal’s halls.

The gates were slowly closing now and he picked up his step again. He didn’t have a plan in his head or even an idea of how to stop yet another retreat, but he pushed forward, unwilling to give up, not even for a moment.

Dwalin sensed the blade as it swung at him from behind and turned just in time to block it. He pushed away the sword with his hammer and cut the orc’s head with his sword.

As he turned back toward the gates, they were too close to closing for his comfort and Dwalin gave it another burst of speed, already knowing he would be too late. Then anger hit him, the heat of it so strong it took away his breath and in a fit of uncontrollable rage, Dwalin braced himself and swung his hammer above his head before giving it his all to throw it at the hinges of the gates.

The blow left even him gaping, down on his knees in orc guts. He watched as one side of the gates crumbled, the stone cracking where the hammer had struck and while the other side easily closed, the one now damaged hung half open and easily penetrable.

Like a fool Dwalin dropped his sword and lifted his arms high in the air, roaring his victory against the scum, when a blade slid beneath his ribs and through the still pumping adrenaline he had enough mind to pull out Umraz and swing it backwards.

He felt it hit, the grasp on the sword in his back loosening, and with a smile on his face Dwalin whispered “Imrid Rakhsûn knub,” before falling on the ground unconscious.

****

“Ahhh!” Billa screamed and fell off her couch in front of the fire. The pain was excruciating and she hugged herself, curling on the floor, biting her lip not to scream and wake the young ones.

“Billa? Billa? Are you all right? What’s wrong?” Bofur came running, he and Nori usually staying awake longer.

“Bofur…” Billa whimpered, pale as a sheet and gasping, “Get Hamfast,…” blood bumbled out her mouth, “Send for Tooks.” She managed, droplets of blood flicking onto her carpet before darkness consumed her.

****

Dis wielded her axe and sword barely distinguishing orcs from goblins. Her hair swung around her, matted and splattered with blood, and while her arms were heavy with fatigue and her mouth dry due to the lack of water, none of it could compare to the ache deep inside where the laugher of her children still echoed.

Dis frowned and gripped her weapons harder then rushed forward, cutting down all the orcs running toward the gate in retreat. She was sick of it, she needed to see Fili and Kili, go a week without killing anything bigger than a spider. She wanted to see grass of all things, one unmarred by orc limbs and not saturated with the stench of burning bodies.

A loud thud had her looking up and she caught sight of a hammer wedged in the hinges of the closing gate. It was a good hit and a roar of victory accompanied it. She smiled almost happily at the sound and pushed forward, killing the rest who were brave enough to linger in the valley.

Soon other dwarves forced their way through until the only living orcs around were those wounded on the ground, and they weren’t long of Middle Earth.

“Break it through but don’t go in. Just make sure the scum can never close those gates again.” Thorin appeared beside her, giving orders, “I want archers all around, eyes on those gates at all times and shoot anything that moves inside.”

“We just might get through this, brother.” Dis said quietly as they watched the gate they’ve been fighting in front of for years.

“Does that hammer look familiar to you?” Thorin suddenly asked, almost startling her.

Dis took a better look then whispered, “Dwalin…” as she lifted her fingers close enough to her lips to touch.

Thorin started running right away, he looked frantically around, shouting, “Dwalin! Dwalin, brother! Where are you!”

She joined him soon enough, checking each body of a dwarf she could see, and while she caught sight of Balin and Vili among those looking, only Thorin kept on yelling, “Dwalin!” his voice cracking and horror giving his voice a too high a pitch.

A shout had them all running in the same direction, Oin jumping over bodies with his bag clutched close.

The blade was still in him as none dared to touch Dwalin and Vili did his best to restrain Thorin who was half insane with grief.

“Everyone stand back!” Oin pushed through the crowd and he quickly checked Dwalin’s breathing and if his heart continued to beat. The news seemed optimistic at first but few recovered from such a wound and Dis as well as the others knew better than to hope.

They carried him to the tent, Oin rushing to stop the bleeding and prevent the infection, but the mood was somber and a hysterical King hardly helped matters. But Dis didn’t have tears to shed for Dwalin. Those had been spent with the rest of the Durins who never should have died and she almost expected the orcs to be done with their line altogether. It seemed that each victory, no matter how small would carry heavy sacrifices with it.

 

****

Adalgrim walked into Bag end with his numerous other cousins, all of them quiet and bearing food. The smial was lit and he could hear crying from the sitting room, so Adalgrim decided that would be the place he could be of the most use.

What he hadn’t expected was five of the seven dwarves crying huddled against each other. He’d heard of course, that Billa had become a guardian of some of the dwarf children, but it was one thing hearing about it and something entirely different seeing the little hairy lads. Oh, no, those two worse dresses. Adalgrim shook his head. If not for Billa’s beard he would have asked them what had happened to their trousers.

“Come now, little cousins, Billa will be perfectly alright, and there’s no use in you spending all your energy while she’s just resting. Here, take a scone each of you and munch away.” He said with a smile.

They were hesitant at first, but eventually each of them relaxed slightly as he accompanied the food with some Tookish stories he knew would appeal to the dwarves. He still remembered how much Billa had liked them when Gerontius told them.

It was hours later, when half of the group was asleep, that his grandmother, Adamanta, called him over. He waved over Primula to continue the tale when the older lass among the dwarves stopped him and whispered, “How long does she have, do you know?”

“She will be fine. Don’t you worry about a thing.” Adalgrim said with a smile but the lass just gave him a hard look and whispered again, “Her One is wounded and probably dying. Once he goes to the Mahal’s halls, she will follow.”

“I… What?” Adalgrim asked stumped.

“I grew up in a war and I know injuries that can kill a dwarf. Billa just screamed and collapsed, holding her middle. Her One was probably run through with a sword. There’s no curing that.” The lass told him and Adalgrim felt himself go pale.

Without anything better to say he asked, “Do you wish to see her?”

The lass considered the question for a while then nodded and followed him to Adamanta.

His grandmother just glanced at the lass then told him, “Malachi doesn’t know what’s wrong with her, but it’s not looking good.”

“The lass here says her One was probably wounded in battle and if he dies so will she.” Adalgrim shared.

This time it was Adamanta who paled and started falling only for Adalgrim to catch her and help her to a chair.

“What is it, grandmamma?” He knelt in front of her worried.

Adamanta gave him a long look filled with sorrow, “Just like my Bella. In minutes she was gone, taken away by a death on the other side of Middle Earth and poor Bungo followed. Just like my Bella,” she hid her face in a handkerchief and cried.

Feeling somber and upset, Adalgrim took the lass’s hand and led her to Billa’s room, but where the lass expected the sight of Billa too pale for words and in a sleep too deep to be healthy, the same almost brought Adalgrim to his knees.

The lass let go of his hand and walked over to Billa. She smoothed out her hair then separated a few strands on the side before braiding them with soft words which were far beyond Adalgrim’s understanding. However, once she turned to him she whispered, “This is a braid of hope. Her One will receive the same for as long as he draws breath.”

With that she left and Adalgrim was left gripping the door frame and suddenly feeling thirty years older. Hobbits might have led shorter lives but most of them died of old age with nothing but happy memories, and he couldn’t help it but be thankful for his own lot in life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Imrid Rakhsûn knub. - Die, orc dog.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’ve always rolled my eyes when someone said they’ve managed to delete a story they were writing. Well, yes. That happened. Just name something else on your desktop the same and there you go, all nicely deleted with the notes completely gone.
> 
> I’m out of this story somewhat, both when it comes to inspiration as well as actual time needed to write the rest of it, so no promises on updates and all the apologies for wrongly written details and other mistakes. 
> 
> Thank you all for your support, it meant a lot and is the reason for the end of that f-ing cliffhanger so I hope you enjoy and I’ll do my best to get back into this time permitting.

Thorin sat next to Dwalin’s death bed, watching with trepidation as his chest rose with each breath. It had been days since Dwalin had broken through the orc defenses and given them a chance, but it was a bittersweet victory and one Thorin wasn’t sure was worth it.

Too many of them had already paid with their lives and Thorin couldn’t find it in himself to continue fighting. Who would be left to live in the mountain if all of them died wining it back, and they were well on the way to that particular future. No, Thorin felt the war was at its end. Ered Luin lacked treasure and was a poor substitute for Erebor, but it was still a mountain and Khazad-dûm wasn’t worth their lives.

Dwalin breathed in again, the sound a heavy rasp for the past day. He hadn’t woken up at all and Oin had already warned him Dwalin never would. The wound was too severe and the infection had quickly set in due to the dirty blade. There was no stopping it, but none of it mattered because Thorin wasn’t planning on leaving his brother on his own. Even if there was nothing left to wait for but his death, Thorin would make sure Dwalin didn’t die alone.

He vaguely wished his One could have been there, that Dwalin had gotten the chance to meet her properly, but those were fool’s wishes and something more suited for those not as bitter as him. They would have to write to Gandalf, let him inform the dwarrowdam of her One’s demise…

“Mahal, I’m exhausted…” Thorin mumbled and rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hands.

Then he snapped his head up, feeling the blood drain from his face and whispered, “Mahal…”

Dis chose that moment to move the flap of the tent and come inside. Thorin turned to look at her.

“What is it, nadad?” She asked worried, “Is he still alive?”

Thorin swallowed before speaking, “Fili and Kili are with his One. His One Dis.”

Dis paled and looked at Dwalin in desperation, “When he leaves for the halls they might end up all alone.”

****

Nori hid whenever her sister didn’t need her, keeping to the shadows and watched the hobbits milling around the smial as if it was their own. She liked some of them, especially the Tooks, but there were those who looked at them with scorn and Nori wished she was old enough to stand her ground and comfortable enough in Billa’s smial to set those hobbits right and throw them out of her home. 

The one they called Lobelia liked spending her time in the kitchen the best, but Nori was suspicious the very first time she came under the pretense of caring for Billa. She never even asked to see Billa, just proceeded into the kitchen all the while speaking loudly with too much self-importance. Nori recognized that kind of behavior and stepped out of the shadow as soon as she saw Lobelia try and put a silver spoon into her pocket.

Without shame, Lobelia just smiled and placed the spoon back next to her cup as if nothing was ever wrong. Nori knew to never let that one out of her sight again and watched her like a bird of prey. It was easier to work on her skills then to think about Billa who hadn’t woken once since she’d collapsed and if one was to ask Nori, looked worse for it.

****

Four long days Dis watched as Thorin wasted away next to Dwalin’s bed, his eyes haunted and his appearance lacking for a King. Worry consumed them all. Another brother all but gone and their King lost in grief. But the fear that gripped her the most was one for her children. She held onto the hope that not all Dwarves followed after their One and the Masked dam was strong and fierce. If anyone could endure such a loss it was her.

Dis bit into that sliver of chance and believed with every piece of her stone carved heart that the dam had made provisions for the dwarflings in her care and eventually everything would be well.

Then the tent flap opened and Villi rushed inside, “Tharkûn is here, raklâ .”

Dis barely stopped to grab her cloak before rushing outside in search of the wizard.

She found him in Dwalin’s tent tending to his wounds while arguing with Thorin in harshest tones she’d ever heard from the Tharkûn.

He turned once he heard her enter and sharply said, “Lady Dis, spare me the stubbornness of Durins and lead your King away so I may work in peace and save this senseless dwarf!”

The very nature of her bloodline sang to stand her ground, to oppose the wizard, but common practicality, something few of her kin even possessed, had her biting her tongue and instead she motioned for Villi and together they dragged Thorin away. Because that was precisely what they had to do while Thorin cursed the whole way and struggled with whatever strength he still had after failing to care for his body since Dwalin’s fall.

Hope in her tentatively blossomed and it gave Dis the force she needed to keep her brother still, to whisper reassurances in his ear and beg him to see reason where little of it was to be found.

“Dwalin might still live, nadad. Let the wizard work, give him a chance, so the dam survives as well and my sons stay safe. I beg of you, nadad. Calm, for me.” Dis’ words were as harsh as their language tended to be but Thorin found comfort in them and instead of rushing in his rage back to the tent, he embraced Dis and buried his face in her hair.

They stayed that way for a long time, unaware of the sounds around them, and once they were both settled enough to stand on their own, they sat on a nearby log and kept their gaze on the tent entrance for hours more.

There was nothing to be done. There were no orcs to kill at present and no tasks they were focused enough for to occupy them. Besides, no matter where they might have gone, it would have been too far away from Dwalin. Something neither of them was quite capable of doing at that time.

“I came as quickly as I could once I heard. Is there any news?” Balin asked Dis, still out of breath for he must have been running all the way from the stables at the other end of their settlement.

“Not as of yet. Hours have passed already but we are hopeful.” Dis said softly, gripping Thorin’s hand.

Unwilling to let her mind carry her away once more, she focused on Balin, “Is Oin coming as well?”

“Yes. All Broadbeams survived after the ambush, but even if we had known of the Tharkûn, Oin wouldn’t have been able to come any sooner.” Balin answered never once ceasing to twist his fingers.

“Who sent word?” Dis inquired, realizing that Villi was nowhere in sight despite the darkening sky and cursing herself for such a lack of awareness. One never knew when orcs might sneak their way inside.

“Villi had sent young Rak to inform us. Once we have news I will join him. There was a scuffle on the east side. Our kin are calling for a mediator.” Balin said, just as Tharkûn emerged from the tent and pulled out a pipe from one of his pockets.

Thorin was on his feet not a moment later rushing toward him. As Tharkûn saw him he sighed deeply and put his pipe away unlit.

“There is hope yet, King Thorin, cease with your mindless rage.” Wizard said.

“Took you long enough.” Thorin almost rasped, his voice rough from shouting.

“Now there is no need for your lack of manners at present. I came at the first stir of trouble I felt. You should be thankful my sense of Hobbits is so strong I can feel their distress from most corners of Middle Earth.” Tharkûn smiled and pulled out his pipe again.

“What do the Hobbits have with this? I was not aware there were any here at present.” Balin asked just as Thorin opened his mouth.

“Now never mind that. Dwalin might yet recover. His wound is difficult and might fester again, but for now I’ve contained the rot and it’s on the mend.” The wizard offered information to avoid an answer he didn’t want to give. Dis wasn’t so easily misdirected not to notice but held her tongue because Dwalin was more important at that time and she was just as eager for answers as Thorin and Balin.

“You will stay until he is with us once more?” She inquired careful watching the wizard.

“I can spare a few days before I must be off. We will bring that stubborn dwarf back from dead yet. Have no care.” Wizard said before smiling brightly, “Now where can I find something to replenish my strength? The travel was long and saving dwarves takes both energy as well as patience.”

He barely spared them a glance before he waved to the first passing dwarf and shouted, “You, Master Dwarf, be a good lad and show me a way to a filling meal. That’s a good lad.” And he was gone.

****

Bofur had heard the hobbits talking as the days passed. A whisper at breakfast, a soft conversation before supper. They worried and fretted for Billa, but while they were very unlike dwarves, hobbits were just as efficient. 

Bofur had heard them on the first day sending for the Tharkûn, their words rushed and steps quick. He heard them planning for his brother and the little ones in case the worst was to come, and while disbelieving he also heard them speaking as if all of them, the dwarflings, were Billa’s kin and should be taken care of until old enough to inherit all of her land and property. 

So while just as efficient, hobbits were far more selfless than any dwarf Bofur had met and more often than not Bofur was at a loss as to how to speak to them about anything other than the usual trivial nonsense. All but that Lobelia of course. Bofur knew very well how to go about speaking to that wicked woman and both Nori and him took great pleasure in outsmarting her each and every time.

But despite all his sneaking about and listening in on conversations, Bofur was all but worried sick and took what strength he was able from Nori. A dam of steel that one and always ready to give a hug to the little ones as they cried themselves to sleep.

Yes, Bofur was young, but he watched and he let his stone sense guide him when in doubt just as his cousin had taught him. He was a dwarf, proud, strong and resilient. He would endure and be tough, he would let the little ones lean on him just as they leaned on Nori until their future changed once again.

****

Oin looked more flustered than Thorin as he rushed in Dwalin’s tent with a sharp order, “Everyone move, I have a dwarf to see to.”

Well used to his manner, the Durins stepped away from the bed and waited patiently in the back as Oin checked and probed until he turned toward them once again, all surprise and tentative joy. “He is better. The infection is all but gone and even his fever is slowly passing into sweats. I can hardly believe it, but I’ve checked him twice.”

“Oh, thank Mahal.” Dis brought her fist against her chest and collapsed onto a nearby chair.

“He is blessed.” Balin softly whispered a smile stretching on his face.

****

Back in the Shire, among soft pillows and in a smial full of kin, Billa took a deep breath full of promise and relaxed in restful sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Raklâ – precious  
> nadad - brother


	18. Chapter 18

Chirping birds outside her window weren’t an unusual or unwelcome sound early in the morning. In fact, Billa rather enjoyed them. However, whispers, thuds and soft exclamations of pain were rather unusual and reason enough to sit up and push away the remnants of sleep from her still fuzzy head.

It took her a while longer to connects the missing pieces and actually remember, but once she did she said with a gasp, “The little ones…” and slipped from beneath the covers.

She ignored the sudden silence on the other side and opened the door swiftly only for little Kili to stumble inside and fall on his bum right in front of her.

“Kili"! Are you quite alright?” She crouched down and picked him up ready to check for injury.

The dwarflings had other ideas however, and soon they were yelling “Billa!” while rushing forward to wrap their little arms around her. Kili hugged her so tightly she probably would have reprimanded him if not for the feel of his tears against her neck and all at once her heart ached. They must have been worried sick. She had no idea how look it took her to wake up, but if there was anything joyful in it all, it was the feel deep inside her which told her Dwalin was on the mend. 

That moment of introspection was all she allowed herself before focusing on the little ones and hushing them, taking care to touch each of them in comfort without letting go of Kili.

It took some time, but eventually, she said, “Come, join me on the bed, and Bofur, please close the door. Thank you.”

She placed herself in the middle then proceeded to pull all of them as close as she was able, placing kili and Gimli in her very lap despite the squeaks and offended grumblings, “Hush, I haven’t seen you for what must have been days. Indulge a dam, won’t you?”

All of them blushed as was to be expected, but they complied without the slightest resistance and in the end that had been the goal.

“You’ve recovered,” Nori said softly as Billa wrapped her arm around her and made Nori lean her head against Billa’s shoulder.

“Yes. It appears that I have. I hope I haven’t worried you all too much.” Billa told them, despite knowing she had.

“In Azanulbizar dwarves rarely woke up from their One’s sleep.” Nori whispered but every little face around her looked as if they thought the same.

“That may be, but my One is strong and fierce. He would never fall in battle and leave me alone.” Billa said partly to reassure them but mostly because she truly believed it.

“It’s not as if they mean to die.” Bofur scowled then blushed as little Ori whimpered at his words.

He hugged her and mumbled soft words of Khuzdul in her ear.

“True, and yet I have faith in my One. I’ve seen him in battle, and there is no one more sturdy and unbreakable than him. He is like a mighty mountain always ready to unleash an icy storm upon its enemies but defending everything dear safely inside. He wields his axes with speed and accuracy, but I find him the most beautiful when he swings his war hammer and rids us of many enemies at once. My One is a warrior, the right hand of a King and he’s well earned his place there.” Billa explained, her thoughts far away and her chest all but bursting with affection.

“Sounds like our iraknadad Dwalin.” Fili said, scrunching his small nose .

Billa threw her head back and laughed, “That’s because he is.”

Right away Kili and Fili started jumping on the bed excited and wide-eyed, their voices overlapping too much in their enthusiasm for her to understand what they were saying. Billa saw her bedroom door open and Bell Gamgee peek inside. She gave her a nod and looking rather relieved, Bell retreated leaving them to their laughter.

It was Nori again who sobered the situation, “Is he alright?”

Billa smiled as she nodded and said, “Yes, he’s on the mend.”

All of them seemed to relax at that, grinning together with Billa, before Kili startled her as he quickly sat up straight. He looked at her and said with all the importance a little dwarf could muster, “He said you were pretty.”

Then Fili mirrored him and added, “And that you’re a good warrior.”

Billa could hardly help the blush crawling up her cheeks and she certainly couldn’t stop the giddy feeling inside where she was overwhelmingly pleased.

While Billa had a certain amount of confidence in both her looks and abilities thanks to her parents, she had always been aware that she didn’t quite fit in the Shire. Too hairy to be considered pretty by hobbit standards, too wild and adventurous to be proper and her skill with weapons was something looked down on rather than praised. The only reason she stood as tall as she did, was because Bungo and Bella never allowed anyone to tell her anything improper and they gave her enough strength to endure anything making her feel bad in the Sire and look toward the mountains. Bella always told Billa she was beautiful and that no dwarf would ever think otherwise.

But it was one thing to accept that knowledge from her parents and quite another to get a confirmation she’d yearned for all her life. As it was one thing to ache for acceptance from the family she’d never met and something utterly different to actually meet them and expect the same as the war crawled toward its end.

“You’ve got yourself a charmer.” Bofur winked at her startling her enough that Billa burst into laughter. While the whole attitude and the words might actually fit Bofur in another thirty years, in the face of a dwarfling they came out as very good fun.

Naturally Bofur scowled at her, not looking as if he appreciated her amusement, but Billa just pulled him closer and kissed his slightly furry cheek.

It had all the others snickering and Bofur hardly hesitated when he pushed Fili, who was by far the loudest, slightly to the side.  
“So, can you tell me how long have I’ve been asleep and what has been happening in my smial without me?” Billa wondered.

“Five days.” Nori said right away.

“Many hobbits came ‘round.” Bombur mumbled then promptly flushed and ducked his head.

The most surprising however was Bofur with an almost disgusted, “Lobeilia visited.”

At which point Nori added, “But I protected your spoons. Saw her trying to put them in her pocket four different times.”

“Oh, she’s a sneaky one she is.” Billa grumbled.

“They took care of us, and fed us and watched as we played.” Fili said nodding his head.

“Lobelia?” Billa asked, feeling her eyebrows lifting in disbelief.

All of them laughed then and it was a joy to see them happy.

“No….” Kili whined holding his belly, “Loblelia is mean and doesn’t like us.”

Billa narrowed her eyes, failing to correct the mispronunciation, “Did she say anything to you? No one has the right to be mean or cruel to you while I’m around and especially in your own home.”

The dwarflings looked surprised but Bofur recovered swiftly and reassured her, “No. She was just unpleasant, especially if she thought no one was looking. We made sure she was never alone with any of us. Well, except Nori. She always watched Lobelia.”

“Made her quite uncomfortable, I did. She huffed and she puffed but all the spoons are still here and I chased the dragon away.” Nori said proudly with a little smirk.

Billa laughed heartily, simply loving every moment with her children and feeling surprised once more at how clever each of them was.

“How about some luncheon, Miss Baggins? You and the little ones must be starved.” Bell had opened the door slightly and invited them with a smile.

“Quite right, Bell. We’ll be right there.” Billa was already pushing the little ones forward, her belly grumbling at the mere mention of food.

“Come, up you get before I feast myself on your hairless little feet.” Billa growled playfully and all of them jumped off the bed screaming and rushed for the door.

Not feeling up to dressing quite yet, Billa took the robe off the back of the door and wrapped it around herself to stave off the chill still crawling down her body and headed toward the kitchen.

“Billa!” Shouts bounced off the walls of her smial as hobbits, but mostly the Tooks, saw her standing and breathing. They discarded all that was proper to rush toward her and wrapped her in many crushing hugs, very much like her dwarflings had done.

“Thank you all for being here and looking after my children. I don’t know what I would have done without you.” Billa said feeling overwhelmed and barely stopping the tears that threatened to spill.

“Nonsense child,” Adamanta said loudly from her place at the table, “You might be a Baggins but you are first of all a Took and you’re family. We haven’t done anything you yourself wouldn’t have done for any of us. I don’t want to hear nothing of it. Now come, sit and eat, child. It’s been many days.”

Gratefully, and with another rumble of her belly, Billa took her seat next to Fili and Kili and started piling her plate. While they held no swords, stone and precious gems, smials of the Shire always had food and plenty of it. Something Billa would never even dream of changing.

Once the meal was mostly done and some of the young ones had started on the dishes, Adamanta patted a seat next to her and Billa obediently moved, knowing this was one conversation she wasn’t about to get out of.

“You worried me child.” Adamanta hesitated for a moment before she continued, “Just like your mother in most everything, but I never hoped you would be the same in this as well.”

“I am safe now, grandmamma…” Billa started only to be interrupted by a narrowed-eyed Adamanta, “You are not alright, my child. You almost left us, you almost left those children all alone and for a dwarf none of us even knew you’ve met. Will it be like with your poor mother? She pined despite having a whole separate life and then she just went and died for no reason at all while that dwarf of hers never once came to her, never once even saw his daughter!”

“I’m sorry, grandmamma. I met him in the war. He’s a fierce warrior and he is right for me. I could never settle with a hobbit. You know that, you know that I would never have been happy in a simple life all of you crave.” Billa paused for a moment, her thoughts far away before she whispered, “I think it’s the way of the dwarf, to live in hardship and endure, to take on battles and bare the burdens, but also to love fiercely and only once, because that one time is with more spirit and force than any other kind in Middle Earth could feel. They, we, live in difficulty but are rewarded by love we would die for.”

Adamanta had tears in her eyes as she watched Billa, words seemed to have abandoned her, but in the end she pulled Billa into an embrace and whispered, “You are already lost to us, child, but we love you all the same. If you need to bring that dwarf of yours to safety where we can make sure he doesn’t lose his fool head again, you do that, and no hobbit in the Shire will dare speak against you. I’ll make sure of it.”

This time Billa cried and only hugged tighter when she mumbled, “Thank you, grandmamma.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> iraknadad – cousin (male)


	19. Chapter 19

“May orcs defecate upon your grave, you liar!” Dwalin yelled before wrapping his arm around his chest with a groan and lying back down on his cot.

“I am not a liar.” Thorin said somewhat calmly only for Dwalin to half-rise again and shout, “Best of friends! Brothers in arms! I thought you were my kin! Kin would never do this to one another. May your beard fall out and your head turn bald you deceiver!” after which he grunted, red-faced, and fell back down.

Thorin gritted his teeth, his jaw set, then seemed to rein in his temper and motioned the two dwarves waiting forward.

“No! I refuse! You can’t force me you bastard!” Dwalin yelled and kicked out his leg trying to hit one of the dwarves approaching at which point Oin slapped the back of his head trying to get him to calm down.

“You won’t be able to fight for months yet and we need to make sure Fili and Kili are safe. It is for the best.” Thorin growled his hands in fists.

“They are with my One, of course they’re safe. It is me you wish to get rid of, brother!” Dwalin all but spat the last word leaning forward too much then flinching at the strain to his wound. Oin slapped the back of his head once again and pulled him back to the cot mumbling, “Tear out his stitches, will he? Fool of a Durin!”

“Why would I wish to get rid of you, Dwalin? See sense! You are my right hand, my shield brother, I will be lost without you, but you can’t fight and I wish to see my heirs safe. There is no one I trust with them more than you!” Thorin snapped, his eyes narrowed and his hair falling forward as if his mere sternness would be enough to convince Dwalin.

“You must think me weak for I see no other reason! I cannot watch your back from the other end of the world as you very well know and it is my task to see you through this never ending battle. And don’t you dare use my love for the little miscreants to turn me away, I will not budge on this!” Dwalin was pale from the strain the brief upright position had caused and while Oin did slap the back of his head and had managed to drag Dwalin back to the bed, none of the color returned to his face.

Dis hid a grin behind her hand as she mumbled to Balin, “The way he’s going, it will be his head that turns bald.”

Balin moved briefly to smother his chuckle keeping an eye on the two dwarves who were still trying to lift the cot and get on their way. But Dwalin barely paused in his tirade, slapping the reaching hands away and kicking wherever he could, Thorin’s words falling on deaf ears and Oin’s insistence registering as much as an annoying fly.

He didn’t wish to get involved in a matter between his King and his brother. While he agreed with Thorin and had in fact advised him on this course of action, he was still familiar enough with his brother to know the decision would be seen as a betrayal. But as he caught the sight of blood spreading on the bandages covering Dwalin’s chest he said, “Is your dam not worth your time? I imagine she felt your wound as if it had been her own. Think of what Fili and Kili must have thought when she collapsed and I ‘ave no doubt little Nori is well aware of the risk of having a One. That child is too sneaky for his age.”

That shut all of them up and Balin caught sight of even Thorin paling. But this time as the dwarves lifted Dwalin’s cot, his brother said not a word despite his face carrying on that familiar disgruntled scowl. It was only once they were already outside of the tent that he mumbled “My place is by my King.”

And Balin easily shut that down with a well place, “Then you shouldn’t have gotten stabbed.”

Gandalf chose that moment to appear out of thin air with a cheerful, “I trust you are all ready? The caravan will take longer than an eagle, but I fear it is much safer considering your wound Master Dwarf.”

“Bloody wizards and their birds. Give me solid ground any day and Mahal be praised for his sense to create it.” Dwalin grumbled holding the edges of the cot as best as he could.

It was a solid metal frame with handles extending on the sides for easier transfer and a soft cushion held by many braided wires underneath. The thing could even be dismantled for transport, but Balin had to admit that despite his confidence in dwarven work, he too would have held on tightly. Dwalin’s words rang true for there was no replacing the ground under one’s feet.

“His escort will be with us in a few moments.” Balin added as an afterthought once they neared the Hobbit caravan.

“Escort? My dear Dwarf, there is no need for more warriors to accompany us. The usual company from the Blue Mountains and the hobbits will be quite enough.

“For once I agree with the wizard. I ain’t helpless and I don’t need any bloody protection.” Dwalin growled still holding onto the cot.

“The road is long and you could always be attacked by orcs or bandits.” Balin tried knowing just from Dwalin’s expression it was futile.

As predicted Dwalin rolled his eyes and snorted, “The caravan’s been coming here for years and they haven’t been attacked once. I doubt whoever you’re imaginin’ has been waitin’ for me.”

“Good. Now that’s settled, let’s put you on the wagon and we must be off. The wizard’s work is never quite done.” Gandalf said with more cheer than the situation rightly deserved, but with that he was bundling off to chat with the hobbits and the dwarves were left to do as told.

The chill between Dwalin and Thorin was still frostbite worthy but Balin supposed it would sort itself out with time as it did during previous spats.

He leaned his forehead against his brother’s gently and mumbled a few words to wish him a safe journey and swift recovery. 

The others did the same and in barely any time at all, the caravan was rolling down the road and disappearing from sight.

It felt like another loss and for a moment Balin was quite disoriented. But then Dis was there, wrapping her arm around his shoulders and together they headed back to their daily tasks. After all, the kingdom seldom waited for anyone.

****

 

The road back to the Blue Mountains was better maintained than it had been years ago when he’d passed on his way to Azanulbizar, but spending half the journey on his back did little to improve Dwalin’s already black mood.

The wizard was as annoying as ever, his answers vague and his platitudes rage inspiring while the hobbits’ jovial attitude did little to decrease Dwalin’s mistrust. There had to be something wrong with the lads to take everything in stride and with a smile on their chubby faces.

But one thing that kept his complaints at bay was the food. It was travel food for Mahal’s sake, but if it wasn’t better than anything he’d tasted since Erebor he was willing to eat his beads. The hobbits scavenged during the long day hours, often walking next to the wagons and ponies and while they did have a substantial meal three times a day – which was already more than Dwalin had experienced on any journey - the hobbits also munched away in between their stops. He vaguely wondered where they managed to fit it all, but in the end it was one of the other dwarves who’d asked about that little detail and the fact they usually had seven meals left him baffled. 

Each night as they set up camp, the hobbits were the ones who drew the others into a cheerful conversation. Often about their smials and neighbors, but sometimes they spoke about their journeys and how the Tooks held a competition each season the caravan was due to see who would be the one going. It seemed the journey had become something of a challenge and gave bragging rights to all those willing to leave the Shire and join in on an adventure. Dwalin hardly understood it, but the hobbits were satisfied with his grunts and there was little point in asking questions whose answers he likely wasn’t capable of relating to. 

His days turned better once he was given a pony and allowed to ride. Not that it was by any means easy. His wound ached something fierce with each move, but Dwalin would have rather died than admitted that little titbit. His place was on a pony with his head high and not on his back in a damned wagon.

As they entered the Shire the whole scenery changed. It was as if the surrounding world was a harsh reality of cold winters and dry summers, with hunger, death and suffering, while the rolling hills and green gardens belonged more in a story of the Valar then anything meant for mortals.

The dwarves had abandoned them back in Bree and the hobbits now went their separate way to join their own families, but the wizard said little and smoked his pipe with a smile as he rode his horse next to Dwalin.

Now Dwalin had never been the most patient of dwarves, still there was something to be learned when traveling with a wizard and that was to not ask questions unless he was willing to accept infuriating and vague answers which only inspired more questions.

However the Shire had been the last possible destination in his mind when he thought of the dwarflings and his One so the quiet was bound to end, “The Shire, wizard? You took the children of stone to the most peaceful and dirt filled part of Arda?”

“Now Master Dwarf, the Shire is peaceful and plentiful. Exactly what the little ones needed after all they had been through.” Tharkûn easily answered.

Dwalin grunted. “Perhaps. That doesn’t explain how a dwarrowdam came to live here of all places.”

“No, it doesn’t.” Tharkûn said and that was that, as if the whole damned conversation was meant to end there.

Scowling, Dwalin looked at the Tharkûn and spat, “I would appreciate an explanation.”

“Alas, that is not mine to give. I’m afraid you will have to hold on to your impatience until we arrive at our destination.”

Dwalin reached for his sword in anger but caught himself before he actually did anything foolish. Instead he growled and shot a look at a nearby hobbit, forcing the little creature back to his smial with just a gaze.

Another rolling hill was up ahead, this one with a large tree growing on top of it and a round green door at the front. Dwalin could hear children screaming in play, but while there seemed to be more of them here it wasn’t much different from the rest of the Shire. The Halflings were blessed with little ones and Dwalin couldn’t help it but feel the envy. Dwarves had never had so many children, not even in Erebor and they were always sorely missed.

The green door suddenly opened just as Dwalin got off his pony in front of the gate. Seeing Fili carrying an empty basket almost larger than himself was enough to make him chuckle. Fili caught the sound and as he peeked over his load his eyes widened and he screamed “Dwalin!” promptly dropping his basket.

Fili ran toward the fence gate and as he reached it other little heads leaned out of the open door before joining him.

Dwalin picked up the little one, hugging him almost too tightly, but he hadn’t even been aware of just how much he’d missed Fili and Kili until he saw the little blond head.

Soon enough he was surrounded by little ones, some more hesitant than others, but he picked up each one of them while keeping little Kili safely seated on his shoulders.

Then she appeared, pretty floral red dress hugging her form, barefoot with her hair loose and an almost shy smile on her face. She was exactly as he remembered her, beautiful and shiny and all he could have hoped for, while at the same time there was something different about her, something withdrawn and not quite as brave as the warrior he’d faced at Khazad-dûm.

She approached slowly, reluctantly even and the children all seemed to notice the tension between them because they quieted and stilled, watching.

Dwalin decided he would do it right this time, so he lifted Kili off his shoulders and put him on the ground before he straightened then bowed, “Dwalin, son of Fundin, at your service.”

As he looked back at her, she seemed almost frightened, her fingertips touching her lips and the gate between them might as well have been a fiery wall. Then suddenly she dropped her hand, lifted her head and with the same decisiveness that she’d shown in battle said, “Nis, daughter of Thráin, son of Thrór, at your service.”

Dwalin couldn’t have stopped his jaw from dropping to save his life and stared at her with all the grace of an orc before his tongue bypassed his brain and he blurted, “No ya ain’t.”

She narrowed her eyes and Dwalin must have been seeing things because he could have sworn those pretty, so obviously Durin blues were moist, as she said, “I most certainly am. But you may call me Billa.”

Dwalin sifted through everything he knew about her in his head then reached out and caught himself on his pony before his knees betrayed him, “By Mahal, Thorin is going to kill me.”

Nis, or Billa, his One, who he most certainly didn’t deserve, chose his moment of utter foolishness to lose her battle with tears and spun around only to disappear behind the round green door.

“Confounded dwarf!” Gandalf yelled before his staff connected with the back of Dwalin’s head and he went after Billa.

Dwalin winced but had to admit he’d quite deserved that.


End file.
